


A View To A Winchester

by Drasna



Series: Some Sunny Day [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Depression, Dirty Talk, Drinking to Cope, Explicit Language, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, POV Dean Winchester, POV Original Female Character, POV Third Person Limited, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 74,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23987911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drasna/pseuds/Drasna
Summary: Julie has moved into a new house after life took an unexpected curve. She’s found some things about her location are providing immense enjoyment and occupying a lot of her time… has she mentioned the view?This is set after the end of SPN… about two years later. Whatever fallout occurs on the show itself, I’m imagining the boys survive. The idea of what Dean would actually do after hunting was no longer his main occupation has always intrigued me. As a man that has gone through so much in his life(times), what kind of assimilation issues would he be faced with (PTSD, that always self deprecating, not thinking he’s good enough attitude)? So, this will be a slow burn more than likely.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Some Sunny Day [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795759
Comments: 58
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

The view from Julie’s home office had always provided some solace. A calm had washed over her the very first time she stared at it months ago. She’d been alone searching for a new place to move all of her stuff into as soon as possible. Well, not alone if you counted the perky real estate agent hovering in the doorway. Back then, she had no idea what her next step would be. But this little view of nothing special hit the pause button as all the pieces of her life crumbled out of her control. The view had been a distraction amidst the decisions and paperwork and phone calls. Everything that came along with severing the life she had built with the man she’d married.

She could hear her spry sixty-six-year-old mother passing the vacuum downstairs in the living room. Again. For the second time that day. _Bless her sanitation compulsion. It’s only going to get worse now that she had to leave her house for this fumigation fiasco… will never hear the end of how she always knew keeping a clean house was important._ Julie sighed. _It will keep her from mentioning Steve for a while. That’s a positive._

She’d started her work project that Saturday morning at the PC atop the corner desk. A wall slathered in a turf green color with the precision of a five-year-old had been her view past that computer screen. _Wish I’d had time and money to paint the whole house before moving in._

The uncomfortable office chair and the ache in her lower back had shifted Julie’s location by hour four of her remote workday. She gave in to try and subdue the pain, pulled out her laptop and sank into the sofa bed. The discount furniture had proved remarkably comfy. It was also positioned at a perfect height under the two side by side windows. The view looking out over her small backyard was always filled with entertaining items.

It was a standard middle-class development. No HOA in this joint. Her neighbors to the left had perfected the art of hoarding chaos in their backyard. Every inch was filled with something either garden or tool related or well past its usefulness. Julie had a quaint covered patio right next to their property line. Mom, the one with the green thumb and outdoor enthusiasm, had sat under it more than Julie had over the past few days. _Nature is better experienced behind a pane of glass. I’m too sweet for those mosquitoes._

A beautiful Dagwood tree skirted the other fence line toward the far edge of her property. It’s branches brushed over the detached carport capping off the incline from the long driveway. This divorcee didn’t have it in her budget for a two-car garage. But she did like the fact that her car wasn’t the first thing a guest saw in front of the house when they drove down the road to visit. The quaint cape cod had a simple charm to it, with another small Dagwood by the porch.

 _You should have taken Steve for everything he was worth._ Oh, her mom’s never requested, yet always given, opinion when it came to her ex. _If only she did have some of that superstitious Italian ability to curse others. Steve’s dick would have fallen off a long time ago._

Nope, this view had been just enough for Julie when she’d moved in three months ago. After the divorce had become final. And then, last week, somehow, she’d managed to convince her dead-set-in-her-ways mom to leave her row home in the city and stay with her, instead of at a hotel during the necessary remediation.

_You try and talk an old school Italian into leaving their home unattended. Try, I dare you._

Julie’s younger brother, Joseph, was on the west coast with his wife and two sons. There was no way, as much as her mother worshipped the ground her son walked on, that Joey would be able to come and rescue Mamma Mia for this one. Knowing their mother was with Julie made little brother feel better. He’d uttered that phrase over a video call, his youngest boy squirming in his lap and grabbing for the screen. They both wouldn’t be alone for a little while, he added, which cut Julie in a way that she was sure he hadn’t intended. _It’ll keep Ma busy, Jule-Jule, having you to fuss over. Like she used to do when we were kids._

As she tapped with an absentminded rhythm on the down arrow key, trying to focus on the spreadsheet, she couldn’t help but steal glances at the patch of unoccupied concrete driveway in the _other_ neighbor’s yard. The one neighbor she’d only seen on two occasions. But, both times, he had been a glorious sight to behold. The man she’d learned was called Dean Winchester.

The first time she’d spotted him, Julie had been outside late one evening, only a couple days after moving in. Her cleaning of the backyard had gone better than expected that afternoon. Even a run in with a spider had not scared her inside. Normally, she would have abandoned any items and cleaning supplies in her wake of fright. That was not an option. _Cause I don’t have anyone around to kill them._ She faced the one inch eight legged fiend like a trooper, brushing it into the grass.

The finishing touch of her busy day had been the placement of two wicker chairs and a tiny table in the covered patio’s alcove. Spring had not officially arrived yet, but she’d risk putting the outdoor furniture where it belonged. Her frame sank into one of the chairs with a wine cooler in hand, her aching feet propped up in the seat of the other. She tugged the cardigan sweater closed at the slight chill in the air.

Her chatty neighbor Wes, the one with the hoarding problem, had talked her ear off for a good half hour. She basked in her accomplishment as the sun set and she was talked more _at_ than _to_. He seemed quite content speaking over her as she attempted a conversation. Not in an overbearing or conceited way. It was reminiscent of an excited child who couldn’t wait to get all the details out about their amazing story. His partner, Samuel, would try to steer Wes back and remind him to wait his turn in the most patient of ways. Julie had no energy left to struggle and simply listened. It was what she was good at, after all.

Julie quickly surmised the amount of alcohol they imbibed could be part of the reason they got along so well. They were night and day. Wes worked in construction, had a scruffy stark blonde beard that matched the ponytail, and lived in faded jeans and a Phish t-shirt. Samuel was a retired Executive Director and dressed like one of those distinguished older gentlemen in a Land’s End catalog.

The couple had eventually turned in, wishing her a good night. Julie sat, alone, in the dark. She was too tired to get up. Her lids were getting heavy. A loud rumble from a vehicle had stirred her awake. She cursed at falling asleep, outside, leaving herself vulnerable in a new place. The open wine cooler bottle hung in her hand at a precarious angle. She placed it atop the table and prepared to lift her ass out of the now uncomfortable seat. Then, she spotted headlights creeping up part of the driveway she could see past the _other_ neighbor’s house. There was a good 30 feet of grass between her chain link fence and the neighbor’s drive.

A motion sensor light kicked on. The massive front of a vintage black car came into view. It pulled in slow and cautious like a boat approaching a pier. The engine ticked off and grunted at the journey’s end. Then the driver’s door swung open. And, in the darkness, under the covered patio, Julie could feel her mouth start to dry up at the sight of the man who’d been behind the wheel.

She couldn’t explain the reaction, even thinking about it now. But, there’d been something overwhelmingly _masculine_ about the way that figure eased out of the car. The presence triggered her senses into overdrive. There was no flight or fight response. All freeze on her end.

Work boots landed on the concrete in a secure and smooth motion one after the other. Her ears tuned into the thud of his soles, then the shift of toe boots sliding against gravel. The fluorescent light played with the shadows and cut a chiseled physique out of the contrast. The buzzing sound from the bulbs over him intensified in her ears. Like he was _generating_ energy. The tingling sound crested in waves in her direction. She licked her lips. A metallic, coppery flavor laced the air. The taste reminded her of when she had accidentally touched a live wire and received a mild shock. 

She dared to tilt her head. Her black rimmed bifocal prescription glasses got a clearer image of this man. He dipped back into the car to pull out a duffel bag and tossed it by his feet. He wore dark jeans draped over muscled thighs and a pair of bowlegs. She made out all those details thanks to the light shining down and carving out a pronounced oval between those legs. A plaid shirt fitted and hugged a set of broad shoulders. The hem of the shirt hung in the perfect spot above… well, maybe that was when her mouth had completely dried up. That man had an ass so perfect, so curvy, she’d never seen a male backside look that good in denim.

 _My mind has to be playing tricks on me._ She shook her head to rid her brain of the fuzziness. _Or, that wine cooler was a lot stronger than I expected. There’s no way the rest of him is that… this... perfect._

And, then, he turned into the light, and gave her a glimpse of his face. And proved her goddamn wrong.

He bent down to grab the bag off the ground and swung the door shut, producing a squeak. But, the squeak could have been one of disbelief coming from her mouth. A spiky, short cut of hair topped his head. The profile of this man had sharp angles in all the right areas. Dips and swells in every other spot of his face brought to mind those old Guess jeans ads Julie had seen in countless magazines growing up. She’d wished the moon and stars wiped away in that moment and willed the sun to rise instead. She wanted to see every inch of him and take in all that was reserved for the shadows.

And as quick as that, he was gone, with a confident posture and matching swagger. He disappeared down the driveway. He must have gone into the front door of his tiny house out of view. A couple seconds went by and then a light filled one of the small square windows. But, she saw no movement. Then another window snapped on in illumination. This one was situated on the wall of the house closer to her property. But, still nothing. No sign of him, not even a passing shadow. Both lights eventually turned off. Back in the dark, Julie gasped for the air she’d been denying herself as she spied on this _other_ neighbor. She scurried back in the house like a mouse.

The wheels of the unplugged vacuum cleaner rolled along the hardwood in the first story directly below and rolled her out of the recollection. Mom was moving to another room to continue cleaning. Little to no insulation in the walls and the small square footage made everything way too easy to hear in this house. Her mother’s snores in the first floor bedroom last night had woken her up. She frowned, realizing she could no longer watch the occasional soft porn in her bedroom without the use of headphones. She was fifteen all over again.

_Not that I’ve needed much in terms of arousing material since my other neighbor. Dean._

The man had no routine to speak of that she could discern. The car might be parked in the driveway for a week or two, then gone for one week. Then back for only a day to be gone again. For a month after that first sighting, the only sign of him being home had been the car in the driveway. Her voyeuristic tendencies shifted into high gear. She found the views from her office window and the sliding glass door leading out to her yard even more interesting now.

She resorted to asking Wes about the neighbor when the car had disappeared again for a few days. Wes’ eyes lit up in obvious appreciation at the question that bright Saturday morning. “Oh, you mean Dean? Dean Winchester. Been around for a couple years. Keeps to himself... and his yard mowed in the summer, when he’s around. Quiet. Well, except for his radio when he’s working on the Impala. Thank God he’s got good taste in music.”

“Impala?”

“His car, sweetie.” Samuel had snuck up behind Wes and clarified.

“Oh.” Julie did not know enough about cars to have identified the model. She discerned the basics. It was black and bulging and could batter ram her compact into an accordion if they’d ever gotten into a crash.

“It’s a beauty. His pride and joy.” Wes tilted his beer over toward Dean’s driveway. “I got to look under the hood of her once. I offered to help, but…”

“He’s got a clear indication of how good you are with cars, Wes.” Samuel raised an eyebrow and pointed to the rusty, old truck behind them.

“My financial ability doesn’t have anything to do with my knowledge and skills in car repair,” Wes huffed.

“I could make a counter argument, but I’m hungry and really want you to cook tonight.” Samuel tapped Wes’s shoulder.

“What does he do for a living?” Julie asked.

“He can’t really talk about it.” Wes nodded in an exaggerated manner.

Julie could feel her mouth turn down in disappointment. “Why not?”

“He’s hinted it’s government related. Possibly Homeland Security.” Samuel added.

“Oh. Wow.” The hours kind of made sense. But, the tiny house in this mediocre neighborhood didn’t line up with the salary that went along with a job like that. She kept the opinion to herself. As she usually did with most things.

That afternoon, Julie had gotten a bug up her ass to clean the second floor. Her mom would be coming to visit the next day. The last thing she wanted to see her do was pull out the mop and bucket. _I’ll have to lock up all my cleaning products. Of course, mom’s sneaky little self will probably pack up her own arsenal of weapons in her car._

After she’d finished with her bedroom an hour later, she’d attacked her office. The windows, inside and out, had been begging for a proper wipe down. She raised the roman shades left by the previous owners to the very top of the sill, coughed at the dust, and then lifted one of the windows up enough to tilt it into the room. The pane rested against the sofa back. Julie started to clean the exterior.

A breeze pushed in through the screen while she worked. It forced her to time the spraying of cleaner fluid so she didn’t end up with chemicals in her face. When things settled, she bent into the task and wiped. Outside, an angry engine rumbled off to the right. She knew that sound. She’d only heard it once before, but it had ingrained itself into her brain. She licked her lips, like Pavlov’s dog. Her mouth curled into a smile now that she could attach a name to the _other_ neighbor. _Dean’s home._ Her heart sped up.

 _Daylight. Moment of truth._ The rag dropped from her hand. She looked around for the binoculars. They waited on the sofa’s side table, having been fished out of storage after that first night she’d seen him. Her fingers tugged the window screen up. An unpleasant squeak from the vinyl rubbing together clawed at her inner ear. She hunched down and sat on the sofa, barely tipping her head up over the bottom window sill. Her hand snuck to her left and snatched the binoculars.

She could only imagine how ridiculous she looked at that moment. _Yep, you’ve brought out the voyeur in me, Dean. Or, should I call you Mr. Winchester, until we’ve been properly introduced? Please, God. If you’re going to throw me a bone after all this shit with Steve, let this man be a hunky neighbor truly worthy to have spent this much time obsessing over._

She rested the binoculars on the bridge of her nose and tried to focus through the magnified lenses. Sparkling wheel rims, up close and personal, edged into the scene, along with the rest of the car. The anticipation of how much more of Mr. Winchester she might be able to see had her movements searching and tracking in a frantic pace. The binoculars landed on the driver’s side window. Only seeing the outside reflection made her heart drop. The engine ticked off. Then, the door opened.

_Showtime._

“ _You_ wanted me to check in, Sammy. For the third time, I’m fine.” The clarity of the voice wafting up to her perch from the second story made her gasp. _Could I be this lucky? It’s like I’m in the perfect sound traveling angle possible._

After the shock of the eavesdropping accessibility died down, she gasped for a second time when she saw Dean emerge from the car.

_Holy shit._

Dean glanced around the yard, checked his surroundings and stilled. He leaned on the side of the car and stared into her yard. Julie guessed jeans, boots, and a plaid shirt might be his attire of choice. But, good God. Hunky didn’t do him justice. He was fucking gorgeous. Rough, scruffy, a bit aged. Yet, he was also perfect model material with a boyish hint underneath. He had a well proportioned nose, dimpled chin, and a very nice set of lips with just the right amount of pout. His brown hair had a combo of red and golden highlights in the sunshine. The only thing she couldn’t make out well enough from the distance was his eye color.

“Things are good. Just got back home from a hunting trip. Yeah, I’ve been tracking the news. Run of the mill stuff. Happy days are here again.”

 _And, the voice. Holy shit._ It was deep, with bass, and reverberated like his car’s engine in her ears.

“How’s things out west?” He nodded, apparently listening to a long explanation. “Eileen?” Another nod, then his eyes widened. “Really? Congrats on knocking her up, little brother. Finally. Only been with her for two years. ‘Bout time.” He smirked. The grin faded into a serious, tight expression. His jaw clenched and Julie heard a moan leave her lips. “Nah. There’s no reason for me to head your way. I’m fine. Someone’s gotta man the east coast. Most of our headaches popped up here in Delaware years back, remember?” He tilted his head from side to side and rolled his eyes. “Well, you never know. Better I stay here. Just in case. Listen, catch up’s been great.” He pinched his nose. “I’m beat. Just want to sleep for a week. Yeah. Will do. You too, Sammy.”

He propelled himself off the side of the car and reached in to pull the same duffel bag. The car door squeaked shut. And, he was gone again. Julie had gotten herself together after a minute or so and went about the window cleaning. The job was not as thorough as she had planned. A distracted focus had her staring at the Impala and Dean’s house for the majority of her time at the window.

And, maybe he had slept for an entire week after that. The car didn’t move. When she’d leave for work in the mornings she’d take her time by the sliding door to lock up. Easing down the concrete path toward the carport at a languid pace some days. Careful lawn inspection or a trip to check on the patio might fill a minute or so on others. With always the glances up in Dean’s general direction.

But the car would be there in the mornings and when she arrived from work for a few more weeks after that. Then, the erratic disappearances began again. The fun game she was playing of hide and seek with someone not even in on the diversion only turned into disheartening disappointment. _He had the hide part down._

“Giulia?”

Mom called up to her from the stairwell and the memory escaped.

“Yeah?”

“Want lunch?”

“I’m fine.” She readjusted on the couch.

“I’m going to make some pasta fagioli, then, for dinner later. Going to go sit out on the patio.”

“Sounds good.” Mom enjoyed talking to Wes and Samuel. Julie thought her mother didn’t understand much of what Wes said when he’d had one too many beers in him, which was pretty much all the time. But, she laughed a lot. It was more about the company lately.

Her mother muttered something in Italian. “Don’t work all day! It’s the weekend.” Julie didn’t bother to respond. The sliding door whooshed open and then rolled shut. Her mind wandered back to Dean. He’d been gone for three weeks at her daily tick count. _Maybe he really does have a secret government job. But, what the hell popped up in Delaware years back?_ Delaware never made the news on a national level. Well, except for Wilmington being the murder capital of the United States a few years ago. _He couldn’t have meant that, could he? Maybe he’s undercover, living just outside the biggest city in the state in good ol’ Pike Creek?_ She shook her head. Dean had become a distraction and now a point of worry for her. And, she hadn’t even met the man.

She huffed, then typed an email, wrapping up her extra work on the weekend. “Time to get out of these pajamas and take a shower,” she mumbled to no one in particular.

*

A tune she’d heard that morning on streaming radio flooded her head during the shower. The humming continued as she dressed into jeans and a comfy, form fitting Henley. It was an attempt at looking semi-presentable, even if she had no one to impress. She twisted her long brown wet hair into a bun and fastened it with a banana clip. A slathering of lotion and sliding into flats was close to her weekday work routine. _Maybe I’ll take mom out for a shopping trip._

“Giulia? What you doin’?”

 _Oh my God. This is truly going to be a reversion to my adolescence._ She exited the bedroom and called down the stairwell. “Took a shower. What’s up? You didn’t make dinner already, did you?” The smart watch on her wrist noted it was only a little after two. “I’m going to gain ten pounds this week if you don’t slow down on the cooking, Ma.” Julie traipsed down the steps.

Her mother stood by the landing, both hands on the railing’s edge. She blew air out of her mouth. “You’re too skinny anyway.” Julie noticed _that_ look on her mother’s face. She waited with dread for her next sentence. “I met your neighbor.”

 _Oh no._ A mixture of excitement and fear flooded Julie’s veins. She walked past her mother and glanced out the sliding door. _The Impala’s back._

“What neighbor?”

A hand landed on her mother’s hip. She shuffled her not quite five foot frame over to the door and pointed with the other hand. “Dean.” Her Italian accent added an “ah” to the end of his name for emphasis. “Nice lookin’ man.”

Julie shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t met him yet.”

“That’s what he said. I told him you are a ‘ermit and don’t leave the house much.”

“Ma…”

“It’s true. He laughed and said he’s the same. He’s got a nice smile, Giulia.” Her mother’s eyes lit up.

 _Might try to snatch him up for herself._ She couldn’t help but smile at the effect Dean had on her mother, too. The smile fell at the unease building up inside. “What else did you tell him?”

Her mother shrugged. “Not much.”

_God, that means he knows my whole life story._

“Wes was out, too, we were all talking.” Julie opened her mouth to comment that wasn’t reassuring, but her mother raised a hand to silence any commentary. “Anyway, he lives by himself in that house.” Hands pointed and dipped, performing gesture acrobatics as she continued. “He said he was going to mow his lawn today. I told him that was good because his yard needed it.” Julie groaned and placed a hand over her face. “I told him you didn’t have anyone to mow your grass and how long it was getting. So, he might come around and take care of it.”

“Ma!” Julie waved both hands, defeated. _So, now I’m a pathetic hermit._ “I told you I was going to find someone to take care of the landscaping and lawn soon. Why are you begging a neighbor I haven’t even met yet?”

“You’ve got too much going on, having to help me this week along with work. And, if you do hire someone, they’re going to charge an arm and a leg. You’re already paying for the mess at my house that we didn’t cause. And, everything with Steve...” She cursed in Italian. “I didn’t beg anyone. He was nice enough to offer.”

Julie narrowed her eyes and sighed.

“I’ll cook him a bowl of pasta with some of those meatballs and sauce I made yesterday. That will be a fair trade.” She smiled. “Giulia, he’s really nice looking.”

“Ma…” Julie mumbled.

“He’s your age.” She seemed extremely pleased with herself. The roar of a mower got both their attention. “There. See. He does what he says he’s going to do. Already out there mowing his grass.”

Julie followed her mother’s quick steps to the glass. They both peered out. Dean Winchester steered a lawnmower around the perimeter or his thirty by forty patch of yard.

Her mom’s hand patted her shoulder. “I’ll be in the kitchen. He looks like a man that likes to eat.”

Dean made his way toward the edge of the fence that divided both their yards. She studied his profile, concentrating on the task at hand. The pair of jeans he wore, faded and loose, hung lower on his hips than the pair of well fitting ones she’d seared into her brain. His grey t-shirt made up for it. The fabric was tight. Everywhere. Even riding up a bit to display some skin around his waist. And his biceps. _Jesus_. The muscles in his arms were threatening to rip the sleeves to shreds like the Incredible Hulk.

His gaze rose up from the mower and shot over in her direction. She cursed and jumped behind the curtain. _Smooth. What are you going to do if he does come over and mow your lawn, Ex-Lax? You’ll have to talk to him, thank him. You don’t want to come across as an unappreciative bitch._

The lawnmower engine turned into a gut-twisting countdown. The longer it went on, the sooner the possibility that it would turn off. She paced in the living room, out of view from the glass door. Pots and pans clanged in the kitchen. Anxiety built up and finally crescendoed when the engine died down.

“Shit.” She whispered. Her brain worked out the logistics. _He’s gonna have to go around the corner and up the street with the damn mower. Then, up the drive. Or, maybe he’ll start in the front? Nah. It’ll be too much trouble. He probably just said it to placate mom._ She peeked out the glass to locate him. When she didn’t see him, her heart sped up again. _He might be in the shed by his driveway._ Looking, she saw the door to the detached shed alongside the Impala was still open. _Yeah, he’s probably putting the mower back._

Then, Dean appeared. He rounded the corner of her house, having walked up the driveway and stopped. He looked over to the sliding glass door. She gulped.

“Dammit, Ma.” She whispered. A deep inhale prepared her to go out and introduce herself. She swung the door open and slammed shut behind her harder than intended. Her body tensed at the sound. _Smooth._ It took every ounce of courage for her to turn in Dean’s general direction. He was twenty feet from her. The air around her felt like it shot up twenty degrees due to the proximity of his body.

Dean waved from the driveway. “Hiya. Did your mother fill you in on the lawn service scheduled for today?” He took a tentative step on the concrete path and strolled closer.

She smiled and dug her hands in her back jean pockets. “I believe you may have been unknowingly duped into manual labor. I’m sorry.”

Dean flashed a smile and Julie broke into little pieces. He waved both dirty hands in the air. Grass stains criss crossed over the chest of his grey shirt where he’d wiped. He was a sweaty masterpiece. “I’d shake your hand, but…” He shrugged.

“I’m Julie,” she nodded.

He nodded back. “Dean.” He took a few more steps, then stopped a few feet in front of her. _Jesus. Was he for real?_ He was even more gorgeous in high definition. Her heart might stop if he got closer. His eyes locked with hers for some seconds, before his gaze did a quick assessment, traveling down her figure and back up. Then, he licked his lips and smiled at full wattage. _Beating stopped._ “Your mom mentioned she’s staying with you while some stuff gets taken care of at her house. Nice of you.”

Julie shook her head, forcing a language she thought was English spill from her mouth in response. “No brainer. We’ll drive each other nuts by tomorrow. But, you do what you have to for family.”

“Not everyone would.” He muttered in soft response, still smiling. “Well, I’m going to get started in the front, then shoot up the right side of the yard, and wrap around back.” His finger drew his plot of attack in the air.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” The sound of the sliding door behind Julie forced her eyes shut. _Please don’t embarrass me anymore than you have, Ma._

“Dean-ah! Thank you so much for this!”

“No problem, Brigida.” Julie grinned at the way he pronounced her mother’s name. “What are neighbors for?” He smiled.

“Do you like pasta and meatballs?”

“I like all things Italian.” He grinned and gave Julie a side glance. She felt another blush racing over what she knew was her already red and inflamed cheeks.

“Good. Giulia will bring some out for you to eat under there when you’re done.” Julie knew her mom was pointing to the covered patio.

He waved a hand. “That’s not necessary…”

“Yes, it is. You’ll stay and eat something.” Before he could protest again, she added, “It’s the least we could do, right Giulia?”

Julie smiled. “Of course, Ma. Please, Dean, let us occupy even more of your time today.” The sarcastic tone was lost on her mother, as usual.

Dean, however, laughed. “Twist my arm. I’ll have even more reason to finish in a hurry.”

“Good. Giulia, will you help me in the kitchen?”

“Sure, be right there.”

Her mom smiled and left them alone.

Julie shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

“I enjoy mowing.” He shrugged and stared at her again for a few seconds. “Besides, it’s been forever since I’ve had someone cook for me.”

She smiled. “Well, you’re in for a treat, then. My mom is an amazing cook.”

He clapped his hands together. “Awesome.” He pointed to the driveway. “Gonna get started.” He nodded and disappeared.

Julie exhaled and escaped into the house.

_I believe I’ve just been set up by my mother on a date with my hot neighbor._


	2. Chapter 2

“I raised you better, Giulia.”

“Ma, I get the hospitality gene. It’s just not something you can shake.” Julie grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. “But, the silver tray… really? Where did you even find that?”

Brigida gave her the side eye. “I found it in one of the boxes in the basement you haven’t bothered to unpack yet.”

Julie nodded, peeking out the front bay window by the breakfast nook. The mower’s engine could be heard off to the left of the house. She imagined Dean riding up the ten foot wide patch of lawn and popping around the corner any moment. “The wedding gifts box,” Julie mumbled. “Ten years worth of stuff that never got used during our entire time together. I should have donated it instead of hauling it here.”

“Ah, you’re always throwing things out.” Brigida deposited two pasta bowls atop the tray lined with a placemat. The aroma of tomatoes, basil and garlic overwhelmed the kitchen in the best way possible.

“Donating isn’t throwing out.”

“It is when you don’t even use the stuff first.”

“Ma…”

Her mom’s fingers wrapped over Julie’s wrist. “Giulia, do your mother a favor. Enjoy some time with a nice lookin’ man. I’d like to see you smile again.” Moments passed and Brigida’s eyes shined like glass in the sunlight pouring through the window. Her lids blinked in quick succession.

The request tugged at her heart. “Okay, Ma.” Brigida nodded and dipped a saucepan over the bowls. Three enormous meatballs were ladled in one. “I’m guessing that one’s for Dean?”

“You can have as many as you want. But, you’ll tell me just one like you always do.”

Julie rested her chin on the top of her mom’s head and gave her a side squeeze. “I love you, Ma.”

“Watch the sauce.” She scolded.

*

Dean appeared to be playing hide and seek again with Julie. She’d gone out to the patio five minutes after she heard the mower engine cut off. A half-hearted search around the house showed no sign of Mr. Winchester. But, there was ample evidence of a very well mowed and attended lawn. Her nose twitched at the scent of freshly cut grass. She went to retrieve the food and dining necessities from inside the house. It took her two trips and there was still no trace of the hunky individual. Not even in his own yard, stowing away the mower, which is where she figured she’d spot him.

The sliding door closing whipped her focus to the house. Her mom waltzed out toward the patio. Julie crinkled her lids at the purse resting in the crook of her elbow. “What are you doing? You aren’t going to pay him, too, are you?”

“I’m going to the store for a couple hours.”

Julie shook her head. “What?”

“I’ll be back. Most of the stuff is already put away in the kitchen. You can manage these few dishes.” She smiled. “Dean knocked on the front door while you were out here getting things ready. He said he’d be about ten minutes. Was going to wash up. For dinner. I told him I’d let you know.” A mischievous grin lined her mouth now. She grabbed her phone out of the purse’s side pocket and stared at the screen. “It’s 3:30 now. I’ll be back around 6:00. That should give you enough time.”

_Who are you and what have you done with my mother?_ “Enough time for what?”

Brigida giggled. “Just have a nice time.” She leaned closer. “When I brought Wes and Samuel their pasta, I told them you and Dean were having a meal together. Samuel said he’d keep Wes out of your way.”

That explained why Wes hadn’t come out to say hi. “Oh, Ma. You got the neighbors in on whatever this is, too?” Julie cringed. “They’ll be spying through their windows.”

“Sometimes it’s fun to be the one others are staring at, Giulia. Give them something to talk about.” She patted her daughter’s cheek. “Have fun.”

Julie dropped into the wicker chair and watched her mother stride with pride toward her car in the driveway.

_Is this really happening?_ She focused on her breathing as Brigida backed down the drive. _Dean Winchester is washing up._ Her mouth dried up again.

And, with that thought, she heard his voice. “Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.” She turned to his yard, where he stood leaning against the chain link fence.

He cleaned up well and fast. His damp hair was not quite as fluffy, but still spiky. He was in a fresh pair of jeans, blue plaid, grey shirt and a pair of sneakers. The smile widened as he waited for Julie’s response. Laugh lines appeared and a pair of heart-stopping dimples made him even more charming. _How is that even possible?_

“N-No. Not too long.”

He nodded then stared at the fence for a few seconds. Some inner debate seemed to be going on in his head. He tilted up to look at Julie. “Would you mind?”

“Mind what?”

“Feeling a little lazy to walk all the way around.” He hopped up, locking his arms on the top of the five foot fence, then proceeded to swing his body over it. It wasn’t the most graceful landing, but it was still rather impressive. He wiped his hands along his denim covered thighs and sighed. “Getting too old for that.” He made a beeline to the empty chair and sat down across from Julie. “I really appreciate you and your mom going to all this trouble.”

“Least we could do. Mom did most of the work.” She lifted the tray cover and revealed the bowls of pasta and meatballs. 

Dean’s eyes widened. “Oh, man.”

Julie smiled at the eagerness on his face. She got lost in the perfection again and then remembered her manners. She lifted up from her seat and put his bowl in front of his place setting. Then did the same with hers. A quick deposit of the tray and its cover found her back in her seat. “I do have some dessert I made last night, if you’re still hungry after all this food.”

He shot his gaze up to lock with hers. “Pie?” The seriousness in his voice caused her core to pulse. And, she finally got the chance to inspect the color of his eyes. They were the most interesting, mercurial shade of green she’d ever seen.

“Uh, no. Apple cobbler.”

“Whew.” He shook his head. “I was going to have to marry you if you said pie.” Dean gave her a wink and grabbed a fork. He straightened in his seat and held the utensil upright - a soldier manning his weapon, readying at the front lines of a battle.

Julie laughed. “Pie’s the clincher, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.” He emphasized the short phrase in a sinful, sexy tone. His eyebrows raised, hopeful. “I’m starving.”

Julie motioned to his bowl. “Please. Go ahead and start.”

He grinned and stabbed at one of the large meatballs, biting into it with abandon. Julie held back another giggle as the sauce dripped down his chin. The moan that escaped his throat halted any feelings of amusement and stirred up want. Were his slow, methodical chews and utter bliss displayed on his face intentionally trying to elicit another feeling of hunger from her? Julie watched the entire show, realizing before it was too late that her eyes had widened on instinct. He gulped and finally wiped the dribbles off his face with a napkin. His Adam’s apple bobbed with some additional swallows. “Phew.” He sighed. “Hell. That’s… your mom made these?”

Julie nodded.

He shook his head. “She’s a national treasure.” Dean took his time again to savor the flavors of his next bite. When he came up for air, he asked, “How are you not the size of a linebacker with a mom that cooks like this?” The look on his face held no malice, but genuine wonder.

Julie focused on her bowl for a few seconds. “I was a chubby kid growing up. I still love food. It’s taken decades to learn and practice moderation. If mom lived with me full time, the temptation to eat would be too great.” Her mouth dipped into a slight frown, surprised at herself and the intimate confession.

Dean shoveled some of the penne into his mouth next, hunched over his bowl. “Yeah. Food’s awesome.”

She sat in silence, taking in the situation. A weird energy, a co-mingling of their polarizing personalities circling the table, had her unsteady, unsure. This Dean teetered between ladykiller to adolescent within seconds. How much was an act and how much was real? It certainly was turning into an unpredictable afternoon.

The fork scooted pasta like a pushbroom in Julie’s bowl.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” Dean asked.

Julie raised an eyebrow. _Is that a trick question?_

“The whole food thing?” He shook his head and straightened in the seat. “I can get a little carried away.”

She glanced down and noted his empty bowl. _How the hell did he eat that fast?_ “When was the last time you had a home-cooked meal?”

A tiny, wistful smile crooked up the side of his mouth. Eyes popped open when he spotted the Italian bread on another plate. He snagged a slice and mopped up the remaining sauce. “Over a year. Friend back in South Dakota. She’s a good cook, too.”

“Is that where you’re from?”

“Nope.” He stuffed the bread in his mouth. His whole face got it in on the chewing action. This lasted for some seconds.

_Nice avoidance tactic._

“How about you? I know you just moved here and your mom is back in the city. Did you grow up in Wilmington?”

Julie nodded, occupying her mouth with a forkful of pasta. _Two can play at that game, Mr. Winchester._

He seemed to pick up on the dueling defenses. He whipped out a cocky grin that relinquished her of any weapons left in her arsenal. She cleared her throat and dropped her gaze away from his. The slow lean back by Dean caused the wicker of his chair to strain and creak. When she looked up, he stared her down with an unwavering focus. His broad shoulders increased his amount of personal space and took up more of Julie’s. “What’s the story with your mom and the fumigation?” 

_He’s trying to find some neutral territory._ Julie cleared her throat. _“_ My mom takes a lot of pride in keeping her house clean and tidy, inside and out. The owners of the row home next to her had left their property unattended and unkempt for so long... I’d hear about it every time I called. Bug and rodent problem had gotten to an unacceptable level about six months back. Complaints by neighbors, including mom, eventually earned a visit by code enforcement officers. Mom thinks the owner had died and the property was never claimed by any relatives. All of that led to a quick sheriff sale. Now, the new owners are doing what needs to be done to remedy the situation. And, if they were going to fumigate the home for pests, they told mom, it would be in her best interest to do the same. Or, she might have some new critters sharing her space.”

“How bad was it at her house? Bugs?”

“I was paying a pest service to do monthly treatments. My mom has a pretty high tolerance level when it comes to roughing it. But, thank goodness the other neighbors joined together to complain. Us doing it wasn’t enough.” Julie smiled. “She gets frustrated when she can’t take care of something herself.”

He smiled. “I kind of got that vibe.”

_Let’s give this another try._ “I’ve noticed you don’t have a set work schedule. Gone for a couple of days or even weeks at a time. What do you do for a living?”

His brow wrinkled with a raise of both eyebrows. “You’ve been paying attention to my comings and goings?” His expression was stern, unmoving.

“N-no. I haven’t.” _Shit._ “The view from my office looks right over into…” _Abort. Abort._ Her lips clamped shut.

He grinned. “Oh, so you’ve been spying on me? Hm, I’m getting a little rusty in my old age, I guess. I usually have a great sense of when I’m being watched.” A shrug. “But, maybe that’s because you don’t seem like you’d be a threat.” One brow raised this time. “Should I be worried?”

Julie shook her head. “You must flirt for a living.”

He laughed. “Only when my job requires it.”

She gulped and took a stab at some forwardness. “Are you on the job now?”

He shook his head. A hard stare at her lips ended with a lick of his own. “Nope.”

_Breathe, Jules._ “Good. Should I bring out some dessert?”

His demeanor shifted and he turned rigid. “As much as I’d enjoy that, I probably shouldn’t.”

“Oh.” Julie smiled. “Watching your figure?”

“I just need to get going.” He stood up.

“Oh.” The word fell out of her mouth, flat, defeated. She got up with haste and grabbed the tray to clean up. “Sure. Sorry.”

He was already stacking the bowls and corralling utensils. “No. I apologize. But, I really appreciated this. Thanks.”

Julie nodded and threw everything on the tray.

“Let me get the door for you.”

“You don’t have to.” She made a beeline for the house, desperate to escape, up the stone path to the concrete landing.

Dean double-timed his steps to get to the door before she did. _Damn, he’s fast._ His arm locked in front of her, hand resting on the door handle. “Really, Julie, thank you. I’m happy to take care of your lawn whenever I’m doing mine.” His soft smile reached to his eyes. _Even the crinkles around his eyes are sexy. How is that even fair?_ “Free of charge. No food necessary.”

Her lips tightened and she managed a nod. She realized he wasn’t going to open the door until she said something. She replied, “If you have time, when you’re around. That’d be great. Thanks.”

He nodded, looking pleased with himself and pulled on the handle. She stepped up and in, placing the tray on the coffee table. She expected him to have disappeared when she turned back to the door. Instead, his frame took up most of the open doorway and he leaned in slightly. His gaze darted around the living room in a somewhat nosey fashion. _He likes to spy, too._

“I’m sorry,” he spoke when his stare fell back on Julie. “You and your mom seem like good people.” He shrugged. “I don’t have much experience with the neighbor stuff. Or, normal stuff in general.”

Her arms folded over her chest in a defensive posture. Gorgeous or not, the seesaw behavior was exhausting and making Julie edgy. She pointed behind him. “Letting bugs in.”

“Oh.” He pointed to the living room. “Can I come in for a second?”

Hot or not, letting a veritable stranger into her house wasn’t a Julie move. “No offense, Dean. But, we just met.” She motioned for him to scoot. His brows lifted in surprise, but he obliged and shuffled backward. She met him on the concrete walkway, closed the door, and waited.

The atmosphere was heavy and thick with awkwardness. He rubbed a hand on his thigh, only solidifying how very easy on the eyes he was. “It’s just… I’ve pieced together you’re going through a not so great time, relationship-wise.”

She thrummed fingers on her forearm. “My mother probably spelled it out for you. I don’t think any piecing of facts was necessary.”

He shook his head. “Well, she didn’t tell me everything. But, I do know if you had a guy that took care of you the way he should… I wouldn’t be enjoying your company and having a great meal that your mother cooked.”

She felt her eyes crinkle. _Not in any way as sexy as his crinkles._ “I’m sorry if we came across as desperate for a man’s help.”

A hand raised in defense and he tilted his head back. “Whoa, whoa. I’m thinking I’m the one that came across as desperate back there.” The hand dropped down in a slow and purposeful wave, as if he was on a game show presenting a grand prize. “Sweetheart, the last thing I see when I look at you is desperation.”

Her mouth shut at his compliment.

“Like I said, you seem like a great woman. And, maybe I can learn some neighborly tips from you. When I’m around.” He grinned.

“Okay.” She smiled. “Give me a minute? I have one more tip to share with you.” He opened his mouth to reply, but she had turned to dash into the house.

_I raised you better, Giulia._

She returned quick as she could with a covered paper plate. Dean’s mouth turned up in a smile. _God, I so could get used to seeing that smile on a regular basis._ “Some apple cobbler.” She clarified.

“Awesome.” He licked his lips looking down at the plate she held. He offered her his cell phone, already open to a new contact page. “Should get your number. You know, in case something happens in the neighborhood.” The attempt at an innocent smile was downright comical.

She grinned as they exchanged items. “Good idea.” Her finger tapped info into the screen and then handed the phone back.

He slid the phone into his front jean pocket. “Thank you.” The plate tipped in his hand. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

“I hope so. You’ll have to let me know how much.”

“Will do. Have a good night, Julie.”

“You too, Dean.”

*

Brigida’s disappointment was apparent when Julie told her the meal had ended quite abruptly. Julie didn’t provide much in terms of details, which then only irritated her mother further. She wished her mom a good night and went to bed early. But, she hadn’t been able to do much in terms of sleep. The television kept her company for a couple hours while she thought about anything and everything. But, mainly, she thought of him.

It was 11:11 when Julie’s phone buzzed with a message from an unrecognized number. She opened it to find a picture of an empty paper plate with cobbler crumbs and a fork on top. A text followed.

_Sooo good. Yep, if it’d been pie, I definitely would’ve had to marry you._

“Damn you, Dean Winchester.” She whispered to no one, her grin spreading from ear to ear and heat flooding her cheeks. She immediately created a new contact with his information and replied with a smiley face.

_Did I wake you?_

“No.” She whispered her typed comment.

_Why’re you up so late?_

Her head tilted, typing back at the screen. “Why’re you texting me so late?” Her lips tugged up into a grin. She halted, hearing her mother snoring away in her bedroom below. _Snoring is good. It means she isn’t listening to her forty year old daughter talking to herself and acting like a twitterpated teenager._

_I had to let you know how much I enjoyed it, remember?_

“I did say to do that, didn’t I?”

_You did. I ate it as soon as I got back home from that thing I had to do._

A glimpse back outside that night after washing the dishes confirmed Dean had gone out with the Impala. The speech bubble bounced with anticipation. Another text was being composed by those meaty fingers of his.

_I wouldn’t have run out if I didn’t have to._

She imagined the low timbre of his voice dancing over those words. Seduction was another skill he had in spades.

“Was it work that called you away?”

_Family business._

Her heart dropped. More than likely, he was dealing with his own suitcase full of drama just like she was. Everyone was the protagonist in their own story. But, what kind of family business? Maybe he was divorced, separated, or had a baby momma. Multiple baby mommas. Oh, the intricate details and backstory she could come up with if she gave her mind time to wander. A twinge of jealousy didn’t want to conjure up a current romantic interest for Dean. At least, not if it wasn’t her.

“I’m glad you enjoyed dessert.”

_Seriously, though, do you bake pies?_

She laughed, a little too loud. She stopped, listened. Mom was still snoring at a disconcerting volume.

“I’ve only made a few. Don’t have much luck with the crusts. Cakes are more my thing.”

_And, cobbler, apparently. Well, if you ever have extra of anything you bake… anything… and need to watch that awesome figure of yours, I’m ready, willing, and able to take some off your hands. I could eat and watch that awesome figure at the same time?_

Again with the incessant flirting. It’s like he went on autopilot. But, God, she could get used to it.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

_You have a good night._

“Night.”

She sighed. He seemed to be done for the night. A flick on the screen scrolled her back up to the photo. Zooming and panning for a closer inspection provided few hints of importance. He’d used his lap for a tray, the plate resting on his jeans. Three beer bottles were in the frame on what she guessed was a coffee table. Random papers strewn alongside the beverages didn’t look like anything much of interest.

_He’s quite the drinker. Unless someone was there, too._ She pushed away the thought of company for Dean. _Don’t have to be mean in my plot details and deny him any other human interaction. Maybe he had a buddy over._ She smiled. _But, he wouldn’t have shared my apple cobbler. I’m sure of it._

*

Brigida hugged Julie on the porch of her row home. “See. We made it through the whole week without killing each other.”

“Miracles do happen.” Julie concurred.

“You didn’t have to come by.” She picked at something on Julie’s sleeve.

“I wasn’t going to have you come back here without checking things out for myself. With my luck, something would have been wrong and I’d have to come over anyway. No surprises this way.” She grabbed at her mother’s shoulders. “You sure I don’t need to call the pest guy about anything.”

Brigida shook her head. “Him and his guys did a good job. He explained everything to me when I got here earlier.”

“Thank goodness. One more thing to check off the list.”

A tug on her chin forced her to look down and stare into her mother’s hazel eyes. “Promise me you won’t work so hard.”

“Who’s going to take care of all those spreadsheets if I don’t?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I spent my life working in restaurant kitchens, not at a desk on a computer. Damn phones.”

“Not the technology rant, Ma.” She kissed her forehead. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay.” Julie hopped down the porch steps to the sidewalk. Her car beeped at the press of the unlock button.

A nod. “Oh, don’t forget, if you see Dean-ah…”

Julie turned back, “Tell him how much you miss him?”

“Giulia,” her mother’s voice rose too much to Julie’s liking. The neighbors would hear everything. “You don’t let one like that forget about you too quick.”

“Ma,” she walked back over to close the gap and lowered her voice. “The man is obviously super busy with work and whatever else takes up all his time. You’re just upset that you only got to feed him that one time and then he disappeared.”

She waved a hand. “I froze that lasagna. When he comes back, invite him over. Let it thaw for a couple hours then put it in the oven at 375.”

“Bye, Ma.”

*

Julie’s eyes lit up when she pulled into the carport later that Saturday afternoon and spotted the Impala in Dean’s driveway.

_Back. From wherever._ She sighed and hopped out of the car, grabbing the bag of groceries she’d picked up after the trip to her mother’s. Maybe she’d work up the nerve to message him in a bit.

A minute after she got inside and had placed the bag on the counter, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

_Dean._ She swiped to read the message.

_Winchester’s Lawn Service is running a great special this weekend. Two lawns mowed for the price of one - FREE!!! Any interest?_

“That sounds like an amazing deal. Who do I contact to get your services scheduled?” The intentional innuendo dropped. But, would he pick it up and run with it.

_Are we still talking about servicing your lawn?_

She giggled. _There he is._ “What else would we be talking about?”

_I can swing by in the morning._

“Perfect. Things okay on your end?”

_Yep. Thanks for asking. How’s Brigida?_

“Good. Went back home today. Fumigation is all done and she’s thrilled to be away from me.”

_Aw, I missed saying goodbye._

“She’ll be back to visit. I’ll tell her how much you miss her.”

_Please, keep me in her good graces._

“Is that lawn service still free even if my mom isn’t around to cook for you.”

_Absolutely._

She smiled.

_I’ve got to get a shower and turn into a couch potato. See you in the morning, then?_

Julie gave him a thumbs up and dropped the phone to put the groceries away. Her mind filled with thoughts of Dean. Taking a shower. Clean and fresh, watching some random show or movie as he stretched out lazily on his sofa.

_I wonder how comfy his sofa is. If he wears jeans and flannel even after a shower._

She chewed on her bottom lip. The dessert she’d baked this morning waited under the glass dome atop the kitchen table. Her hand froze in mid air as she was placing a box of cereal on a shelf in the pantry.

_He messaged me right after I got into the house. Was he watching? Waiting for me to get home?_

She smiled.

_There’s no way I can eat all that dessert by myself._


	3. Chapter 3

Julie had done some reconnaissance before heading out her front door. She stared at Wes and Samuel’s backyard for some minutes prior. There was no sign of them. Samuel’s SUV wasn’t in the driveway. She figured she had a few minutes to take the walk around and past their corner house in safety. They wouldn’t assault her with questions about where she was off to, taking a stroll she never took in her neighborhood. And, they wouldn’t ask what she had in that box she was holding so carefully.

_This can’t end well, can it?_ Her thoughts of Dean were confused and irrational. She was going by pure feeling. And, that hadn’t always proved the best course of action.

_He’s too fucking gorgeous and too much of a flirt. Guys like that will usually sleep with anyone that tug at the bait._ Her father had been that way. Handsome. Could have had his pick of any woman he wanted. And, even though he’d one hell of a wife in her mother, he insisted on rutting with anything that came sniffing. Mom had finally had enough twenty years ago and divorced him. She would have taken him for everything she could, if he’d anything worth taking.

And, here she was, having just gone through an eerily similar situation with her now ex-husband… walking up the incline to Dean Winchester’s front door.

_Maybe it’s genetic? I could blame this very bad idea on that. Tonight, that’s what I’ll do._ She glanced around the side of the house she never saw up close. The cream colored siding could use a power washing, but the front lawn was neat and tidy. Just like his backyard. There was no landscaping to speak of and the concrete driveway had seen better days.

His Impala, seated on her throne yards away from the door, demanded the spotlight. The slick black paint shone more than usual. Julie wondered if he’d taken her through a car wash that day. Or, maybe he’d washed her himself. Then, she thought about Dean wet and soapy, rubbing his body all over that car, hosing her down. _Hose me down, Jesus._ Her brain short circuited for a second.

_I could turn around and head back. It’s not too late. I could just leave it on the step and text him when I get back home._ The sky was turning a dusty pink with purple ribbons.

_No doorbell._ The berry red front door teased and tested the outreached fingers of one hand as she balanced the dessert in the other.

She pulled her hand back. Eyes closed. Head tilted. There was a split second where she’d decided to leave. An immediate flash in her thoughts of Dean’s smiling face, those green eyes, those lips, overpowered her senses. She opened her eyes to the sound of her betraying knuckles as they rapped on the door.

_You are not desperate. You are going after something you want._

She waited. Some time went by. An awkward amount of time.

_Maybe it wasn’t loud enough. Maybe he’s in the shower. Maybe he’s sleeping. Maybe this really was a bad idea. Oh God, what if he has a woman over?_

She turned and darted down the small landing and got halfway across the walkway when she heard him. “Julie?”

She pressed her lids together in embarrassment, took a quick breath, and prepared to face the music that was Dean Winchester.

_Damn._ He was even more tempting than the last time she’d seen him. Surprise overtook his exquisite features. A blank expression gazed at her, open and waiting. His lips parted. Grey sweatpants and a cadet blue henley draped over his frame. But, fabric still hugged taut muscles and beautiful curves. She tried to regain her focus and stared at the ground by his... _Shit, and he’s barefoot. Even his feet are fucking perfect._ His toes wiggled on the concrete. _Just take me now, Dean._ She sighed and, realizing no part of him would be unattractive or neutral territory, returned his inspection.

“Is everything okay?” He looked past her onto the street and did a quick survey of the area around him. She nodded. His brow furrowed and then his gaze landed on the box in her hands.

“I made a cake.” Her arms outstretched. It was the only motion she could think to make at the time. “Thought you might want a piece.”

“Oh.” A small smile danced over his mouth in a wave.

She retracted the box back to her chest. “I should have called first. Sorry.”

“No. It’s more than fine. I just…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t deserve such special treatment.”

_Have you looked at yourself?_ “Kind of selfishness on my part.”

He gave her that quizzical look again.

“Want to see how much you enjoy my dessert, up close and personal.” She quipped.

He licked his lips on instinct. “You’re giving me lots of opportunities to not behave myself with this mouth o’ mine.”

_Jesus._ “Is that a preemptive apology, or a promise?” She couldn’t help it. He brought out the flirt in her, full on. Her reaction was like a runaway train with no conductor at the controls.

His laugh was deep, sexy. “Come on in. I won’t apologize for the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.” He nudged the front door open with a bare foot and stuffed his hands into hidden pockets. A step back cleared the threshold.

She walked towards him. When she got closer to his figure, she had to look up to meet his gaze. Almost a foot taller, his presence made her feel small and vulnerable. The grin didn’t help to calm the sensations. _He uses Irish Spring soap._ She wiggled her nose at the clean, fresh out of the shower scent his skin exuded.

The house wasn’t much on the inside in terms of construction. But, it possessed a style somewhere between mountain man and perpetual bachelor. _All Dean._ Dark paneled wood confirmed a 70s architectural build that had never been updated. The open living room and kitchen area felt smaller than it was because of the dim lighting. She squinted through her glasses. A floor lamp was on and near a muted, flat screen television atop a console table. Something was blowing up on the screen, flashing and illuminating the lived in space. She stepped in farther. Her flats skimmed off a small area rug to tap onto wood laminate. Stale beer and spicy alcohol permeated the stagnant air in the room. She wondered again how much he drank on a regular basis. The front door click froze her in place.

He appeared at her side. “Let me.” His eager open hands waited. The box dropped into them. “Whoa. Heavy. What’d you make?” He strolled over to the breakfast bar along the edge of the kitchen. The broad shoulders got her all swoony. Bow legs weren’t as obvious in the baggy sweatpants. The curvy ass, however, was quite prominent. He waited for an answer with an expectant look after placing the dessert on the counter.

“Oh. Just a white cake with chocolate frosting. Um, have you ever had a Tastykake Chocolate Junior?”

“More than likely.” He shrugged. “Convenience store grub was sustenance for many, many years.”

She filed that bit of information away for future dissection. “It’s a pretty spot on flavor recreation. They were my favorite growing up.”

“Should I slice it up then? See if it jogs my memory?”

She smiled. “That’s why I’m here.”

He rubbed his hands together. “Make yourself comfortable.” He pointed to the living room. “Move whatever you need to.”

_Even the couch is covered in plaid_. An open bag of chips occupied a spot where she guessed he’d been sitting. A couple beer bottles were on the coffee table. _Again._

She debated on whether to sit on the armchair or the tiny lumberjack couch. There were some books and papers on the chair. She plopped on the empty side of the two seater. The chips were placed on the table after a careful bag foldover.

Her body shifted, ancy and excited. Should she do the relaxed, one leg folded under the other? How far of a tilt in his general direction? Had she dressed up too much? She tugged at the low neck paisley peasant top she’d thrown on with her dark jeans. A finger wiped at the corner of her mouth, reminding her of the shiny gloss applied before she left the house. A faint cherry flavor hit the tip of her tongue.

Her gaze wandered back to him while she continued her inner debate on the best position. He’d gotten out plates and rested a rather long knife on the counter. His fingers lifted the box lid. “Oh, man,” he mumbled to himself. He reached in and pulled out the cake, his focus never leaving the treat. Her eyes widened when he grabbed the knife and flipped it in his hands like a skilled warrior. The blade slid into the cake without hesitation. He repeated the action three more times and then served the slices. His brow lifted and he looked over to Julie. “A cake like this deserves milk, but I’m fresh out. Water do? Beer?”

“Um, water’s good.” She was still getting over the display he’d put on.

He nodded, grabbing two bottles from the fridge and wedging them between his arm and side. He strolled over with a plate in each hand and offered one to Julie. The waters dropped on the table.

“Wow. You don’t play around.” She laughed at the enormous pieces he’d doled out.

“I do not… at least when it comes to dessert.” He settled into the seat beside her, thighs splayed out, encroaching into her territory. He pointed at Julie with the tines of his fork. “And, if you can’t finish yours, I will.” He leaned back and brought the plate to perch at his midsection.

She scooted back, deciding a cross legged approach would have to do to avoid brushing against him. The cake plate rested on her lap. Her gaze traced his body from his very close knee all the way back to his face. “You don’t even know if you’ll like it yet.”

He scoffed. “Please.” His grin turned playful. _Yes, I could definitely stare at this man for an indefinite amount of time._ “Ready?” He inquired with a side glance.

Her cheeks rose along with the wide smile she returned him. “Ready.”

He cleared his throat in deference to the upcoming act. Julie pursed her lips together. His fork sank into the dessert. “I’ve got to get a decent amount of both cake and frosting for this to be a fair sample to judge.” He nodded and tilted the forkful in inspection. His jaw dropped like a nutcracker. He shoveled the mound of cake into his mouth and chewed. Eyes shut as the chews continued. There were no audible cues expressing enjoyment this time, compared to the meal they shared on the patio. The silence was gut wrenching but Dean’s physical actions were making Julie’s mouth water. She wanted to dive on top of him and latch lips onto that pout. The man was legit dampening her panties. She squirmed in her cross-legged position.

His eyes bolted open and he swallowed. Dean cocked his head at her. “That… is… amazing.”

She stifled a giggle rising in her throat. “Yeah? Not just saying that cause I’m right here?”

His brow dipped down, looking a bit pained in his expression. “I’m a straight shooter.”

_I bet._

He attacked the cake again. Julie tried it for herself to see if he was right. She nodded at her handiwork when the smooth chocolate frosting melted in her mouth. It hadn’t gotten grainy from overwhipping.

“Thanks.” Dean came up for air after a single piece remained on his plate.

“Welcome.”

“So, is this your interrogation tactic? Getting me into a sugary-stupor so I answer all your burning questions?” He grinned at her.

She stopped in mid-chew and swallowed.

“Cause it’s a pretty good play.” His eyelids looked heavy as he finished the last piece. He tossed the plate onto the table and grabbed one of the beer bottles. He went with the one leg folded under the other position this time and shifted at her, full tilt.

She cleared her throat, feeling the heat of his gaze. A long swig of beer and smack of his lips warmed her cheeks. “I was just being neighborly.” She lifted a shoulder.

“Hm.” White light from the television danced over his face. His stare seemed chiseled out of marble in the strobing spotlight. “Coming over unannounced. And, considering you didn’t want me in your house… why’d you think I’d invite you in?” His jaw clenched after the question.

_Shit._ “I had cake.” It was half statement, half question.

“Secret weapon aside,” he mumbled, “chocolate frosting wouldn’t protect you from… well, you don’t know anything about me.” His eyes drew her in further, danger and searing intensity illuminated with each flash.

“I’d like to know you,” she whispered back without thinking, inwardly cursing at the admission.

He gave her a small smile. “Might not like what you find. I’m much better if you take me in small doses.” His hand lifted. A flat palm, dangling the bottleneck between two fingers, slid in the air. “Deal with what’s on the surface. Digging deeper is usually a disappointment.” He drank again, then thumbed the bottle opening.

She sighed. “Well, I guess we just do the good neighbor thing and keep things civil, distant.”

He nodded. “Would be for the best.”

She dropped the plate onto the table. “Should I go then?”

He shook his head. “I like your company. Almost as sweet as that cake.”

“That’s all surface stuff.” She tested.

“Is it now?” He leaned in a little closer. His arm draped over the seat back. “Just proving my point.” A grin.

Julie held his gaze and inhaled. “Spill with some surface stuff, then. To appease my curiosity.”

“Okay.” The word dripped out of his mouth, slow, like honey. “I’m 43.” He waited.

Julie smiled. “Are you expecting me to tell you how old I am?”

“I’m not stupid enough to guess.”

Her hand wiggled a finger in the air. “Point for you.” But, she chose not to answer.

The triumphant, pleased with himself smile returned. “Moved here a couple years back. Used to work with my brother. Now, I take care of business solo.”

She nodded. “I won’t ask what kind of business.”

“Thanks. That wouldn’t be a simple explanation.” Another sip of beer. “Uh,” he cleared his throat in thought, “I listen to classic rock… nothing else is real music, anyway.” He caught the rise of her eyebrow. “In my opinion, of course. Been all over the country. Driven through almost every state, even Alaska. I hate flying. Oh, and I love my Baby.”

“Your baby?” Her heart stopped.

“My car.” He clarified. A hint of nostalgia passed over his face. “Been to hell and back in her. She belonged to my Dad.”

“She’s a beauty. You take good care of her.” Julie didn’t push for more, marveling at the little chips in his exterior.

“Family’s important to you?” Dean asked.

It made her pause. “The ones that matter are. The ones that don’t give up on you, even when it would be easier to. Those people are important to me. Those are the ones I’m loyal to.”

The smile he produced held an air of… it took her a few seconds to identify it. _Respect._

“Thing is,” Dean whispered, “I think you’re a decent woman. And, I consider myself a good judge of character.” His eyes peeked down to her chest for a brief instant. “And, if I do what I want to right now… well, that might make the whole neighbor thing awkward. I can be an ass,” he licked his lips, “after.”

“After what?” Nervous energy caused her fingers to fiddle with her eyeglasses.

His knees brushed against her thigh. Warm fingers skimmed up her forearm. Her breath hitched. His hand traveled up over her shoulder and swept the ends of her brown hair to rest on her back. A thumb dipped into the hollow past her clavicle. He skirted under the collar of her shirt, not asking permission. Not needing to. The thick pads of his fingers massaged the skin. His eyes never left her face. “After.” He repeated. 

Charges of electricity pulsed and awakened the cells in her body. Thighs squeezed together while her mouth opened, struggling to make heads or tails of what would be the best course of action. “Being an ass would mean no more dessert.”

He smiled and squeezed her shoulder. “It would.” His fingers retreated from her skin. “Shouldn’t risk it, then.”

They sat in silence for a minute, the moment gone and the space now awkward. Once she felt her heart rate return to a normal beat, she clapped her hands softly on her knees. “Well, I’m going to go. Keep the cake.” She rose. “Figure out how much you want to keep.” She stared down at the confused look on his face. “And, bring me the rest tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“When you come by to mow my lawn.”

He smiled. “Still want me to?”

“Of course.”

“Okay then.” Even though she hurried, expecting to beat him to the door, he managed to get there first again. “Still wanna get to know me?”

She nodded. “I’ve got lots of time.”

He sighed. “I might not be that patient.”

“I didn’t say it’d be easy. For either of us.” She let herself out and stepped into the dusk.

“Julie.” He called out. She turned to take in that perfect figure in the doorway. “Let me walk you back.”

“I’m just around the corner.”

“Just let me.” He raised a finger, dashing away for a few seconds, and returned wearing slippers. A quick lock of the door and he slid down the walk to join her.

She shook her head in protest. “You really don’t have to.”

“Too late.” He slowed his pace and strolled with her in the night. The neighborhood only had a few street lights scattered throughout. They were flickering in that fickle in between before true night enveloped the area. Their short walk was in the shadows of trees and Wes and Samuel’s house.

“Who’s going to walk you back?” she quipped.

“I’ll be fine.” She couldn’t see his face well, but sensed a smirk. His slippers shuffled on the asphalt.

When they rounded the corner and her house was in sight, she raised a hand. “There. You can watch me from here.”

“Uh-uh. To the door.” He trudged up the hill.

“You’re quite chivalrous for an apparent ass.”

He chuckled. “I do try sometimes.”

The rest of the walk was in silence, side by side, until Julie took the lead up the narrow concrete path. She bounced up the two steps to the square slab that was her tiny porchway and turned back. It was quick enough to catch that he’d been admiring her ass as he stood on the path by the bottom step.

She was thankful he couldn’t see the blush she felt creeping up on her cheeks. “Well, good deed done.”

His hands plunged into his pockets. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He nodded. And waited.

She sighed and pulled out the key to unlock her door. “Are you worried I’m going to get attacked by a monster hiding in the bushes?”

He grinned. “Something like that.”

The door acquiesced and Julie stepped inside. “Satisfied.”

“I will be when you lock the door behind you.”

She shook her head and whispered through the narrowing gap. “Night, Dean.”

“Good Night, Julie.”

*

“I’m going to be a big tub of lard if this goes incredibly bad, really quickly.” Julie mumbled to herself in the kitchen bright and early the next morning. “I’ll eat my rejection in calories.” 

She had not slept well, despite Dean wishing her a good night. And, it had been all his fault. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. And, pie.

There had been numerous Pinterest searches late into the night for tips and tricks on how to make the perfect crust. The barely used pastry cutter had been dug out of her wedding gifts box in the basement at about four am. At what was now six am, she was using it to cut the cold fats - a not-yet-tried-by-Julie mix of shortening and butter recommended by one blogger - into the flour.

Next came the slow addition of ice water and another novel ingredient, cold vodka. She had to wait an hour before even starting the dough that morning, placing a bottle of vodka in the freezer to chill. The alcohol apparently inhibited gluten formation which should, in theory, promote a tender and flaky crust. She was not a chemistry gal but she did enjoy learning how to use it to her advantage when it came to food. Forget Bill Nye the Science Guy. She was an Alton Brown, Good Eats fan.

_What the hell am I doing this all for? Desperation? Thy name is Julie. What happened to telling Mr. Winchester you had lots of time to get to know him. Hitting the accelerator, baking a pie because you know he loves pie. It’s like exposing Superman to kryptonite. But, is Dean Superman and pie is kryptonite in this analogy? Or, am I Superman and Dean is my kryptonite?_

“Fuck. I need sleep.”

She turned the dough out onto the floured counter. The folding was always the part that made her nervous. Her mind wandered to Dean again. _Focus, don’t overwork it._ Dimpling the soft, crumbling dough with her fingers brought her back to the feeling of his, dancing over her skin.

A weird, tweaked out bliss washed over her. She understood the enjoyment mom got out of cooking for others, even if she wouldn’t admit it. For Julie, it came from baking up treats for co-workers that made their eyes double in size and the occasional dinner parties with friends that ended with a multitude of compliments and full bellies. _The parties I use to throw with Steve._

A flour cloud billowed from her continued kneading. Her nose tickled at the dust entering her nostrils.

She’d lost a lot of their shared acquaintances over the past few months. Julie didn’t have it in her to compete for a mutual friend’s attention. Steve always needed the camaraderie more than she did anyway. She didn’t have the strength or inclination to work that hard for friendships that had already begun to dissolve or become distant over the last decade. The choice to not have children had put them both on a decidedly different path than all of their married friends. In her honest opinion, the patriarchal society created a more obvious division between her and her female peers. It didn’t help that she was not one to offer to babysit. _Let Steve be the fun uncle. Asshole._

Julie backed away when she realized the folding motion had gotten aggressive. There was no need to take her anger out on the innocent pastry. She separated the dough, formed two balls, covered them in cling wrap, and whacked them in the freezer to prepare for rolling out later. _The Great British Baking Show is goddamn addicting._

But, Dean. Dean’s lascivious, pornographic attitude toward food had set something off. If a cobbler or a cake could get the kind of a reaction she had witnessed from that man, she really wanted to see what a pie could do. She imagined those green eyes melting her with a gaze of adoration after her pie passed his lips.

_I don’t think we’re talking about apples anymore. That mouth. Sweet Jesus._ She had picked up on his affinity for lip licking and how his gaze lingered on her own mouth. _Oral fixation. He has to be an amazing kisser. I bet he knows how to use that tongue. Everywhere._

Julie shivered. She poured her second cup of black coffee and strolled to the tiny foyer. The reflection in the hall mirror under unflattering light only magnified the suitcases replacing the bags under her eyes. Her two sizes too big tattered pajamas reminded her of a potato sack. _Dean is certainly going to want to get all up in this._ Inhaling the aroma first, she then blew in the mug and took a languid sip. _So, pie would be a good deflection from your appearance._ _But, the friggin’ pie won’t be ready for hours. And, anyway, it might turn out horrible._

She still had to peel, core, and chop up a ton of apples for the filling. _Christ, the sun isn’t even up yet._ A yawn overpowered her, despite the injection of caffeine. _I should try and take a nap._ Her body slipped into her favorite sofa corner. _Just a quick one._ The mug steamed on the side table. Her lids closed.

*

Julie’s eyes shot open. Sunlight filtered through the golden sheer curtains covering the sliding doors. The mug was no longer steaming. It was quiet outside.

“Shit.”

She unfolded out of her seat and rose to stand. Her body creaked in resistance. Discomfort in her muscles delayed their response with a stab of pins and needles. She cringed and cursed under her breath. A swish opened the curtains. Her mouth dropped open.

_Lawn’s mowed._ Her gaze shot up to Dean’s backyard. _Impala’s gone._

“Shit.”

_Phone._ Julie flew to the kitchen. The phone had been used to look up the crust recipe. She swiped at the flour dusted screen. A groan. It was one o’clock in the afternoon. She groaned again at the notifications. _Four messages. All from Dean._

“Shit.”

_Knock, knock._

_Anybody home?_

_Hey, Sleeping Beauty. All done with your scheduled lawn service. Was going to drop off your cake. Text me when you wake up so I can make a delivery._

_Julie, I had to take care of some business. Be gone until tomorrow. I’m holding your cake hostage. In fact, I’m bringing a few slices with me for the road. Might not be much left. But, seriously, let me know you’re okay. Or, I’m knocking your door DOWN when I get back._

“I missed him.” She whispered, in total dejection. She hit reply and began talking out her text. This new tick was happening every time she had a virtual conversation with Dean. “I’m so sorry I didn’t hear you. I teeter between an insomniac and coma patient lately. You can have ALL the cake.”

Her heart skipped a few beats when the phone rang, displaying Dean’s name.

She answered on the fourth ring. “Hello?”

“I was thinking you dropped the phone and ran away after your text message.” Exasperation threaded through the bass of his voice. He sighed, faraway, on what sounded like his phone’s speaker. “Are you trying to play hard to get?”

“I’m still waking up.” It wasn’t a total lie.

“Hm. Pretty impressive. You slept through me knocking on the front and back door.”

“I slept through an earthquake and two aftershocks once.” She offered.

“Bullshit.” Dean stated without hesitation.

“I did.” Her defenses were up. “I was in California.” She didn’t bother to say she had been on her honeymoon.

“You should get that checked.”

“I did. I’m good. Just a sound sleeper when I actually get some needed rest. I take it you’re a light sleeper?”

“Pretty much. I’m programmed to wake up at the slightest noise.”

“Work took you away again, huh?”

“Yep.”

She waited. “Is this where you tell me what you do?”

He chuckled. “It’s not as exciting as you’re probably imagining.”

“Try me.”

Without missing a beat, he responded, “Bail Enforcement Agent.”

“Wha-?”

“Bounty Hunter. Even though my colleagues don’t particularly care for the term, I’ve found.”

She gave it a few seconds to sink in. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Her mind replayed the conversation she overheard Dean have with his brother on the phone. _He mentioned coming back from a hunting trip._ “Is that the business you were in with your brother?”

“No.” He paused. “Let’s say it was bounty hunting adjacent.”

“That’s all I get, huh?”

Another chuckle. “Yep.”

“Now who’s playing hard to get?”

“Not I, sweetheart. You’ll never know what you would’ve been in for today... if you’d heard me knocking.”

She swallowed. A swooshing sound filled the absence of his voice on the line. _He’s driving._

“Give me a hint?” A breathy whine escaped along with the question. She bit her lip at the accidental slip.

“Hell. I’ve got someone on the other line. Give me a minute and I’ll call you back.” He hung up abruptly.

She cringed at her reaction. _Sexy. Ugh. You are so out of your league with this one. Well, no need to finish working on that pie now._ She waved a hand and marched upstairs to change out of her pjs. _The crust will keep._

Minutes ticked by. _He got busy with work. Bounty hunting?_ She finished changing and pounced onto her bed, landing on her stomach. Her head shook. _It’s an actual thing people do. But, he could be lying, leading me on with some absurd and inflated story to see what he can get away with._ She’d been that naive with men before, believing what they said at face value. Because, if she wouldn’t flat out lie, why would someone else? Life experience was a hell of a teacher. It turned her hard and cynical and untrusting.

Ten minutes turned into thirty. She browsed through social media apps on her phone. Every second increased her agitation. _My window of opportunity has passed._

Over the next half hour, she applied some makeup and gave herself a pep talk in the mirror. “You are channeling all of your pent up energy, attention, and sexual frustration into this one man. Not healthy. I mean, yeah, the sexual frustration part is totally understandable. But…” she trailed off and stared at her reflection.

_Don’t want to get your mind off a messed up relationship with a quick hop in the sheets. Take care of you. Remember? That was my mantra when I signed the divorce papers. Christ, the single hardest thing I’ve probably ever had to do. And, I added my name to that document like John Fucking Hancock._

She nodded.

“Go out. Get some air. Run some errands. Just be. And be okay with that.”

Julie attempted to make herself believe her words as she went about her day.


	4. Chapter 4

Her mom had called to check in while she was out. So had her brother. Kelly, her co-worker, had texted about a project due the next day, bright and early Monday morning. Julie had taken off that upcoming week and wouldn’t be in the office to help. Kelly needed a pep type. Julie didn’t have the strength for a talk.

Nothing major was planned for her staycation. The only thing she’d sort of been forced into by her old friend, Karen, was to host a mini belated housewarming that Friday night. Aside from the food prep and cleaning, nothing was on her to-do list for days. Now, she debated if she should just hop in the car and go somewhere. Anywhere, to get away from the temptation that was Dean Winchester. With her mother back home, she didn’t have anything keeping her tied to the house. Except the possibility of a very bad decision clad in plaid.

She returned home with a bottle of wine and a bottle of bourbon, the second item which she never drank. Wandering down the aisle of whiskeys in the liquor store made her think of Dean. He seemed like a bourbon guy, or a man that would appreciate the drink. The clerk had recommended the bottle with an unassuming label filled with a beautiful amber liquid.

_Not depressing at all._ It was six pm when she strolled up the steps to her bedroom. Her hands balanced an open wine bottle and foil wrapped hazelnut chocolates stuffed into her drinking glass. She tipped the glass and dumped the chocolates onto the bedspread. _Let me not be that pathetic and put some clean pjs on at least._ The plan was to settle in for an 80s comfort movie marathon. She’d started with “The Goonies”, then “The Dark Crystal”. She had polished off all the chocolates, wrappers littering the bed, and was almost through “Labyrinth” and the wine when the phone lit up.

_U up?_

Ten o’clock and Dean was messaging. The alcohol buzz and trippy Henson atmosphere contributed to her out of body feeling. She watched her fingers tap the phone icon and dial his number.

“Sorry about not calling you back earlier. Got a lead on my skip and had to jump on it.” His voice was super close, husky and low.

“Were you on a stakeout?” A throaty laugh in response to her question ignited a full body tingle. It started at the top of her head and worked its way down to the tips of her bare toes. She muted the television, sank into the pillows, and focused on the ceiling. And Dean’s voice.

“Not quite. I found out he was backtracking to visit his girlfriend. I beat him there, talked to her, explained his situation, and how bad it could really get if he kept running. She convinced him to turn himself in.”

Julie’s tracking was fuzzy on the details. “Is he handcuffed in your backseat now? Or, your trunk?”

“No. Already dropped him off at the police station.”

“Where?”

“Poconos.”

That was well over two hours from Pike Creek. “Long way for a fugitive.”

“Not really. Just another Sunday drive for me.”

It sounded too quiet on Dean’s end. “On your way back?”

“I was.” He sighed. “But, then I decided to stop at a bar. Had a few too many. So, I’m crashing at a classy motel, stone’s throw away from said bar.”

“Hm. I should be crashing soon, too.” Julie slurred.

Another long pause. “Have you been drinking?”

“Yep.” She popped the “p” out of her mouth with pursed lips.

“Huh. Sounds like you’ve been at it for a while.”

“The almost empty wine bottle would agree.”

He tisked. “Drunk. And, I’m missing it.”

The back of her hand pressed against the warmth of her cheek. “You’re partaking in this event virt-,” the train of thought left the station without her. “Not missing it. Did you take the drinking party back to your room?”

“I did. Always keep a bottle of Jack in my trunk.”

“We should toast, then, to drinking alone… but, not.” Julie sat up and took a swig, even if Dean wasn’t going to do the same.

She didn’t know how much time passed before he asked in an even, steady tone, “You wanted a hint, earlier, didn’t you?”

Silence.

“Julie?” His voice teased out her name, soft and slow.

She battled to focus. “Yes. A hint would be nice.”

“How about a confession?”

Electric currents pulsed under her skin. “A confession would be even better.”

“Okay. I should’ve told you this that first day. But... I’ve been watching you… spying on me… for a while.”

Her posture straightened, bolting upright from her reclined position, now stiff as a board. “I-I…”

“Don’t try to deny it.” Silence. “I noticed you one morning, a couple months back. I was in the kitchen, fixing some coffee. When I looked out the window, you were staring into my backyard, then over toward my house. I just chalked it up to you being a hot, nosy neighbor. And, honestly, I didn’t mind the view. Business casual looks very good on you.”

A distinct sip filled her ear, followed by a smack of his lips. _Those perfect lips._ Julie chose to focus on the fact that he used the word “hot” and not “creepy”.

“But, then, you did it again the next morning. You were wearing that dark blue sweater. I was jealous of that sweater, the way it hugs those curves of yours.”

In the effort to stifle a swoon, her mouth let out, “I’d trade places with that red plaid flannel of yours any day.”

He cleared his throat after her admission. “Should I keep confessing?”

“Please. Go on.”

“I could tell you were looking for me, in particular, not just inspecting my property for things to complain about. Call it a hunter’s instinct. You’d seen me before, hadn’t you?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t exactly chuckle that time. It was a short, almost sweet little laugh. “So... every morning when I was home, I’d wait for you to do your search. I’d batted around the idea of coming out one day to say hi…”

“Why didn’t you?”

“What was I going to say? Hi, I’m Dean. I’m a low-rate bounty hunter with a couple hundred dollars to my name, a shitty little house, and a drinking problem?” He sighed into her ear. “You saw something that interested you. But, I do better sticking to the surface level, remember? I know how to work with what I’ve been given. Not much beyond that.”

She wanted to berate him for talking about himself that way. But, all she could manage was to ask, “So, you _have_ been playing hide and seek with me?”

He chuckled. “I guess.”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with all of that ridiculous behavior. I can usually keep my voyeuristic tendencies to a minimum.” Words tumbled out, sarcastic and apologetic.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable. My backyard view was made much nicer. And, you gave me the opportunity to get to know you.”

Julie scoffed. “How could you get to know me that way?”

“This is where you’ll probably get irritated.”

She waited.

“I used my skills and resources to do a little digging on you.”

She laughed out loud. “Did you bounty hunt me?”

“Kinda.”

“Interesting. You’re lucky I’m drunk right now, because I find it highly amusing.” _And pretty damn hot._ She sipped. “What’d you find out?”

“Basic stuff. You’re an accounting manager at a bank in downtown Wilmington. No speeding tickets, pretty straight and narrow. You went to school at University of Delaware - nice GPA. Got married about ten years ago…” his voice trailed off.

“You found out all that stuff even before we met?”

“Yes. And, I apologize. But, I wanted to get to know my pretty Italian neighbor that liked me, too.”

_Too. He could have just ended that sentence with “liked me.”_ “Those are just facts. You don’t get to know someone from a distance.”

“I’ve gotten to know some things. I know when you’re deep in concentration you bite the inside of your cheek. And, when you get frustrated, you scrunch up your nose. You do that alot when you’re on a work call, heading into the house after a long day. I’ve even seen you skip, sometimes, when you come home on a Friday. Just a few feet or so, when you don’t think anyone’s looking. When you leave the house every morning, you test the handle of the sliding door twice to make sure it’s locked. Your hairstyle of choice is a ponytail. But, on the rare occasion when you let your hair down… well, I’m glad you wore it down last night. And, that I got the chance to touch a few strands. Soft as I imagined.”

_He’s imagined that._ She had no witty retort for his monologue. He’d knocked every ounce of air out of her lungs. Her entire body was hot and charged from his confession. He’d examined her, been allowed access to her quirks and habits in high definition, and this Adonis of a man sounded downright intrigued by all of it. _Holy shit. The stalkee has become the stalker. And, I’m finding the table turning extremely hot right now._

“Julie, I know you’re not perfect. But, whatever asshat of a man let you slip away… I don’t think he had any idea what he had to begin with.” He cursed under his breath. “I shouldn’t be saying all this. Making more of a mess of things.”

“No, you’re not.” She swallowed. “How ‘bout that hint?”

“About what I was going to do if you opened the door earlier today?”

“Yes.”

“Give you back half of your cake and ask you out on a proper date. Whatever the hell that is.” It almost sounded like a low, throaty growl escaped his lips. “But, that was earlier today. If I had come home tonight and knocked on your door… I don’t know if I could’ve behaved myself. I would have slammed back too many shots when I got home to work up the nerve. Plus, the adrenaline from the hunt has me riled up.”

_God. That voice._ She crossed her legs to restrict the pulsing in her core. “What does misbehaving look like?”

The silence stretched out to an excruciating span. “We goin’ there?” he asked.

“Yes.” Her head was spinning. She didn’t really know where “there” was.

“Loose lips...” He mumbled. A noisy gulp of liquid followed. The far away slam of a glass came next. “Well... my misbehaving hands would end up all over that rosy skin. Every inch.”

She bit her lip and held her breath.

“God.” He groaned, his voice not as close now. “I’d like to say I’d be able to take my time. But, it might have ended up hard and fast on the floor.”

An instinctive, quite loud gasp escaped from Julie. She slapped a hand over her traitorous mouth.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Dean fumbled over his words. “I shouldn’t have… first, I’m telling you I’ve been investigating you… then, I’m talking about ways I’d… it’s just... it’s been a while.”

Julie exhaled a breath. “I pushed you into sharing. When you say ‘a while’...”

“Since I moved to Delaware. Two years.”

The statement woke her from the orgasmic lullaby. “Bullshit.

He laughed. “Not exactly something I’m proud to share.”

“What the hell are you saving yourself for?”

Without a beat missed, he responded, “You, apparently.”

He stunned her again.

“This has been… well, I don’t know what this has been… I’m going to let you go before the conversation crashes into the point of no return.”

“Dean…”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“I’ll expect the rest of my cake returned… as soon as you get back.”

He laughed. “Yes, Ma’am.”

*

Dean had not returned the next day. But, Julie was apparently on his mind. He’d texted her that morning with an update. Another job had dropped into his lap. One too good to pass up. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone. But he was looking forward to seeing her when he got back.

That was on a Monday. She filled that day with decisions about what to make for her “girl power get together” scheduled for the end of the week. There was also the necessary recuperation from overdoing it with the wine. She hadn’t been that hungover in a while. Binging on caffeine and “The Office” helped.

By Tuesday, she’d become ancy. Staying home was not going to work. If her mind was going to run around in circles, there would need to be something else to occupy it. Rifling through options landed on a trip to a nearby state park. She’d decided on one with a bit of a challenging hike. Composed of winding hills and trails near the Brandywine River, the nature reserve filled her senses, balancing the whirlwind of emotions. She spent close to an hour sitting beside the riverbed. A turbulent spot chosen where the white water rushed over boulders and splashed into a slight descent. The river’s frantic pace cancelled out the chirping of busy birds. A gauge nearby displayed a healthy amount of rain had occurred over the past few weeks. 

Even the intrusion into her personal space by a talkative, friendly dog walker didn’t bother her that much. The petite raven-haired woman, whose age was hard to pinpoint, made some chit chat while Julie trekked back to her car. Her name was Ina and she was new to Delaware. Currently, she was in search of a server job at a high end restaurant where the tips would make it worth her time. “Any recommendations for decent food markets? Best place to order take-out, Thai being my favorite?” Ina’s chocolate lab, Cocoa, sniffed at Julie’s sneakers with abandon as questions were tossed in her general direction. Julie pet Cocoa, dodging some inquiries and rambling off information about places near her home. Cocoa got a few good scratches behind an ear before she wished Ina well settling into Pike Creek.

Wednesday ticked by even slower. Her fingers itched to text Dean. The basement had been the lucky recipient of her time and attention. A large amount of progress was made unpacking boxes, sorting out donations, and finding permanent spots in the house for decorative items. She broke down and reached out to her brother and sister-in-law, Patty, and face timed with her nephews later that night.

By Thursday, she went over her mom’s house. They ended up going to the mall and then shopping for the food Julie needed for her Friday night get together. She was reminded by her mother to feed the ladies well, with various cooking tips. Dean was also a large part of her mother’s focus. Julie feigned as much non-interest on the Winchester topic as possible. But, her mother knew her well enough. She was reminded upon leaving to feed him the lasagna in the freezer soon.

Karen, Stacey, and Cat benefitted from a substantial number of Julie’s hours in the kitchen that Friday night. She’d attempted chicken parmesan, one of her mom’s signature dishes. Sauce had simmered on the stove for a couple hours - not as long as Brigida’s, but not bad. They were on the second bottle of red wine, having moved out of the dining room and into the living room. Cat, sensible and responsible as usual, was abstaining and had driven the other former college roommates over to Julie’s house.

Streaming radio played. They ended up singing along to “Holler” by The Spice Girls, sans Ginger. Julie had always been eager to take Posh’s lines, mainly because hers were few and far between. But, Karen, with her mocha colored skin, coiffed haircut, and pencil-thin skirt wrapping a pencil-thin body truly embodied the word posh. In spite of all that, Karen tapped away on her cell phone while covering Scary’s verses.

Julie had always admired Karen’s drive and dedication. She even hoped to get the divorce thing down as well as Karen. Her two teenage boys were spending the weekend at the Ex’s. She was heading up to New York by train to see her wealthy lawyer boyfriend Saturday morning. Karen made more money than “new man” did. She was a partner in a very successful law firm. 

Stacey always loved Baby Spice. She had the requisite long blonde hair and blue eyes and curvy figure. She also apparently loved babies, as she had birthed three of them in her fifteen years of wedded bliss. The youngest child was two and at home with the rest of the brood that night. Her somewhat sickeningly sweet hubby was great with the kids, she gushed. “He doesn’t think he’s babysitting when he spends time with them.” She nodded and pointed at all three women in succession. Her affinity for wine had not faltered either from their college days. _Stacey’s lips are already way too loose when she’s sober._ Her rouge stained mouth was downright slippery at present, wet with a good Cabernet Sauvignon.

“Lucky you.” Karen quipped. “My ex went to the mat to get shared custody. Yet, every time it’s ‘his’ weekend, there has to be an argument.” _Karen’s love for air quotes hasn’t gone away._ She smiled over at Cat. “You should have tried harder to seduce me, Kitty Kat. Would have saved me decades of dumb dick.”

Cat, who always seemed relegated to Sporty Spice by default, pushed black rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her blue eyes crinkled behind the frames. “It wouldn’t have stuck, Kar.” She dipped and sipped at her soda. Sharp angles of her brown bob curtained a pale face. Stubby fingers with short nails - _that she probably still bites_ \- flicked the hair back. “Besides, I wouldn’t be happily domesticated with Sheila now. And, you hate dogs. I have two, remember? Big ones.” Cat turned to Julie. “What about you, Jules?”

Julie’s eyes widened behind her own glasses. “Are you offering to try and seduce me, Cat?”

Karen and Stacey laughed. Cat blushed. “No, smartass. Are you going to get a pet to keep you company?”

Julie shook her head. “Don’t think so.” She was taking it easier on the wine than the other two, still milking her second serving. There would be no hangover repeat.

“Well, a man, then?” Karen asked.

Stacey guffawed. “It’s only been a few months. Give the woman a chance to grieve.”

“Grieve over what? A shitload of baggage she never checked on the flight.” Karen shot back.

Cat rolled her eyes. “Here they go,” she mumbled.

Julie cleared her throat. All three turned to stare in her direction. “There is… someone.”

Karen slapped her thigh. “That’s my girl!”

“Already?” Stacey’s lids blinked in rapid succession.

Cat waved a hand at Stacey to hush, looking at Julie the whole time. “Details.”

Julie began the very lengthy tale that was Dean Winchester. When she was done, she was met with mixed reactions from the trio.

“He’s been stalking you?” Karen’s brow furrowed.

“He’s a bounty hunter?” Stacey added her concern.

“What’s his name again?” Cat pulled her tablet out of the huge purse by her feet. She was a communications manager at a large non-profit and social media was her specialty.

Julie shifted in her seat. “Dean Winchester.” Defense mode shot up. “To be fair, it’s not like I was innocent in the whole stalking thing, either.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t go much beyond some Googling, right? He got downright illegal in his activity.” Karen shook her head.

“Hm.” Cat frowned. “You said he’s around our age?”

Julie nodded. “43, he said.”

Stacey wagged a sluggish finger. “Hey, we’re 40. Don’t age us all prematurely. Nature’s doing a fine job of that without any additional assistance.” _Stacey’s starting to slur. May have to cut her off soon._

Cat ignored Stacey, swiping and typing. “I’m not coming up with anyone around that age with that name. Weird.”

“Why’s that weird?” Stacey asked.

“Everyone has a digital footprint. Something can be found on anyone pretty quickly. Even if it’s the smallest, inconsequential bit of data. But, to find nothing…”

Julie shrugged. “Maybe he’s good at covering his tracks.”

“Even more reason to be wary of this guy, Jules.” Karen attempted a maternal look. “He sounds like the epitome of a bad boy. Come on, a vintage muscle car? You’re a sucker for that type. We were study partners working on our Minors in Psychology together, remember? Think about it. Ten years with a man you thought was a good partner and reliable, only to have that rug ripped out from under you? I’d be searching for the exact opposite, too, faster than you could say peanut butter sundae.” _No wonder she makes the big bucks. She presents a damn good argument._

“Karen’s right.” Stacey tried to sound soothing. “You’re in a very vulnerable state right now. Hormones are probably all over the place. Any guy with ill intentions could take advantage of that.”

Julie raised a brow. “If you saw this man in person, Stace… trust me, you’d be all aboard the Dean Train. Remember Gavin Teller?” Julie leaned forward for emphasis.

“Yeah?” Stacey squeaked out the question.

“Imagine Gavin having aged to perfection, like that fine wine you enjoy so much.” She pointed at Stacey’s glass. “Now, square that. You get Dean Winchester.”

“We all remember Gavin in his heyday.” Karen let out a low-key whistle. “Damn. I may have to reconsider my opening statement.” Her original career path of a prosecutor fell by the wayside midway through her college career. An enticing salary that could be earned helping clients buy and sell publicly traded companies won out.

Stacey shushed Karen. “College quarterbacks don’t turn into bounty hunters.”

Cat raised both hands in the air. “That is an opinion, not fact. And a totally ridiculous leap. Besides, Gavin Teller sells cars at his dad’s dealership now, is bald, and has a pot belly. His local TV spots are downright cringeworthy. Such a pain in the ass when his company sponsored one of our events. Wanted his cheesy grin inserted in so many media posts. How is that better than being a badass bounty hunter?”

Julie smiled at the tension and exchanged a knowing glance with Karen. They had long suspected there’d been some sexual experimentation between Cat and Stacey around college graduation. It had centered around a night of lemon drop body shots. 

Stacey tilted her nose up. “He was always nice to me.”

“That’s because he liked how you looked in that cheerleading skirt, Stace. I know I did. But, really, Julie… you should be careful.” Cat repeated the other’s concern.

The doorbell chimed. Stacey gasped and Karen’s posture stiffened. Cat returned the tablet to her purse.

“Did you order more food?” Nervous laughter from the ladies followed Cat’s question.

Julie shook her head. She looked at her watch. It was not quite 7:30 pm. Seconds later her phone buzzed. She tapped at the screen to view the text.

_Knock, knock_

“Oh, shit.” Julie whispered.

“What?” Karen placed her wine glass atop a coaster on the coffee table. _Even in high alert, the woman has good etiquette._

“It’s him.”

Stacey cupped a hand over her mouth.

“Dean Winchester?” Cat asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why’s he coming by unannounced?” Karen was in full blown fact finding mode.

Julie wrinkled up her nose. “I may have told him to stop by when he got back.”

“How desperate are you?” Stacey scolded.

“Stacey…” Julie sighed.

Karen raised two hands in the air with a smile on her face. “This is great.”

“Why?” Cat asked.

“So we can all get held hostage by Julie’s lady killer?” Stacey’s voice got higher with each word.

“We can vet him.”

“Vet him?” Julie groaned.

“Yep.” Julie had seen that stern nod from Karen countless times. “If he seems like a creep, you’re done with him. I’ll call in a favor to get a court order issued if need be.”

Stacey nodded. “Yeah. Between the three of us, we’ll be able to give you a decent character profile. And, Cat’s not affected at all by men…”

Cat slapped both palms on her thighs.

Karen waved Julie to the door. “Hurry up and open it.”

“This is a horrible nightmare,” Julie mumbled. Her stomach was doing somersaults. _What the hell will Dean think? What will the girls do?_

“Your phone’s buzzing again.” Cat commented. “Anxious little bugger, isn’t he? What did you promise the man?”

Julie took a deep breath, her hand on the door knob. The last rays of daylight sparkled through the etched glass. _Maybe this is good. I may really need an objective opinion. After all, he’s probably not as irresistible as I’m making him out to be. Context._

When she opened the door, Dean greeted her with a full watt smile. “Hey there.” The two words slipped out slow. His hands held the cake box, fingers thrumming against the cardboard sides. “I was told to deliver this as soon as I got back.” His tongue darted out to the side for a quick lick of his bottom lip while he inspected her.

_Damn._ He was outfitted in a light grey, muscle-hugging t-shirt and faded blue jeans. _Positively edible. Fuck context._ She couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over her lips. _This will be fun._

He stepped up into the entryway, not waiting for permission to enter. His hands offered Julie the box. She was careful to grab the box from the base. He glanced over her head and spotted the company in the living room. His eyes narrowed, tilting down to look into Julie’s eyes. “Sorry. Am I interrupting?” He whispered. “I saw the car parked out front when I drove into the neighborhood… didn’t recognize it…”

Julie arched a brow. “Were you worried for my safety? Or being nosy?”

He grinned. “A little of both.”

She nodded him into the living room. “Come meet some friends.”

He nodded in return and shuffled into the living room, hands stuffed in his pockets, shoulders back, a swirl of timid confidence. The ladies were all up from their seats. The tiny living room felt even smaller with the congregation and Dean’s frame occupying some of it. Julie’s slow steps gave her time to take in the reactions, hiding somewhat behind Dean’s impressive stature. In his wake, she picked apart his scent. The heady mix of leather, sweat, and grease was sharp and crazy intoxicating.

Stacey’s mouth hung open in slight disbelief. Karen fiddled with her hoop earrings and gave Dean the full top to bottom to top inspection. Cat’s eyes narrowed.

When Julie strolled up to Dean’s left, she saw his cautious smile preparing to melt the group. “Dean, these are some college friends of mine.” Julie rattled off their names in order. “Karen. Stacey. Catherine.”

Cat smiled over at Julie, appreciating the replacement of her nickname reserved only for select company.

And, then, Dean unleashed the smile that Julie was certain would topple their wall of uncertainty. He extended his hand and shook each one with the right amount of strength. “Pleasure to meet you, ladies. I didn’t think Julie had any friends.” He chuckled. “She doesn’t get many visitors.”

“And, you’d know that because of all the spying you’ve been doing on our dear friend, I hear.” Karen was ready to knock him down a peg or two right out of the gate. But, the look on her face betrayed the lackluster attempt at disapproval.

Dean’s eyes widened and he stared at Julie. “Have you been talking about me?”

Julie pursed her lips.

Dean shrugged, intense eyes still on Julie. “Well, if you appreciated beautiful ladies as much as I do, you’d understand.”

Stacey cleared her throat, Dean reddening her cheeks even more than the red wine had. She looked in desperate need of fanning. “Where’re you from, Dean?”

The question pulled his gaze from Julie. He smiled at Stacey again. “Kansas.”

Julie tilted her head, wondering if it was the truth.

“Long way from Kansas.” Cat added.

“Well, I’ve been all over the country.”

The three nodded in unison. Karen asked, “Have you gotten a tour of Julie’s house yet, Dean?”

Julie’s eyes zeroed in on Karen with laser focus.

Dean licked his top lip. Julie caught Stacey and Karen taking particular notice of that sexy tick of his. _Not the only one at the mercy of those physical attributes, am I, Ladies?_ “Um, no. This is the first time I’ve been allowed entrance into Julie’s compound, actually.” He pointed to the sliding door. “I’m usually relegated to outside chores.”

“Uh-” Julie started.

“We were getting ready to take a look around,” Stacey interjected. “Jules, why don’t we get the full narrated tour with Dean, here?”

Julie could feel her cheeks blushing.

“Oh, that’s…” He laughed, protesting with a shake of his head, “that’s okay. I’ll leave you ladies to your night. I was only dropping off this cake.” He pointed to the box Julie was still holding. “Still pretty damn tasty after a week.” He grinned at her. “I snuck another slice before bringing it back.” He rubbed a hand on his thigh. “It was nice meeting all of you.”

The three nodded again in unison. As Dean turned their gazes all dropped to stare at his ass. Julie stifled a giggle and pushed the box into Stacey’s hands. She met Dean at the door. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

He bent close to her ear and whispered, “You’ll have to let me know if I passed the test later,” waited a beat, straightened his posture, then ended with, “Jules.”

The light spilling in through the front door glass lit up his eyes a crystal green. “You’ve already passed mine.” She whispered back.

“Good.” He grinned.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” she asked.

His tongue peeked out only a sliver between his lips, revving up the grin even more. “Guess that depends on you.”

“Come over around 8:00.”

He tilted his head. “Is that a request or an order?”

She ignored the question. “Make sure you eat dinner ahead of time. Cause I’m not making any.”

Surprise mixed with amusement on his face. He glanced into the living room. The ladies were seated now, talking amongst themselves, but still staring at the pair. His gaze heated her back up when it returned. “Want me fueled up for any tasks in particular?” Julie shrugged in response. “Hm. Any other commands?”

“Just don’t disappear tomorrow.”

He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She sighed. “Don’t call me Ma’am.”

His eyes narrowed. “Kind of sexy when you’re bossy.”

She laughed, blushing again.

“And when you’re blushing.” He opened the door for himself, waved a hand to the women and then mouthed “See you tomorrow night” to Julie.

As soon as the door shut, Stacey called out, “I take back everything I said earlier.”

Karen added, “If you get kidnapped, give him my address so he can swing by and grab me, too.”

Julie giggled, walking over to the group. “Seriously, what did you think?”

Stacey’s eyes bugged out. “Oh my god! He’s gorgeous, and knows how to use it. That’s dangerous on a ton of levels. But I don’t think he’s a crazy psycho.” Stacey fanned herself. “My husband’s in for it when I get home.”

Karen nodded. “Oh, he’s totally trouble and you’re in for an amazing ride. But, in this case, it’s not the destination but the journey. The journey all over that fine man, of which explicit details will be mandatory. Plus, he didn’t go for the bait to inspect your house. I think an under the radar creep would have been all for that.” She pointed at Julie. “But, we still get a tour as your oldies and besties.”

“Of course.” Julie turned to Cat. “What about you?”

Cat shrugged. “He seems alright. I still think he’s got stuff to hide, though. I’m going to do some serious digging.”

Julie frowned.

“Just looking out for you,” Cat added. “But he did have a really nice ass.”


	5. Chapter 5

The doorbell chimed at 8:03 pm. Julie had been pacing in the entryway since 7:50 pm. Unsure as to which entrance Dean would choose, she’d closed the curtains to the sliding door. Mood lighting had been set to a somewhat romantic minimum. She still wanted to be able to ogle the man.

Every thought and decision that day had in one way or another circled back to Dean. She’d even dreamed about him that night. The mild annoyances of work texts and emails, when she made the mistake to check her inbox, did little to sidetrack her from the tasks leading up to this moment.

There’d been no calls, no texts from Mr. Winchester since the night before. And she’d made a point to avoid staring out her office window or back door every five minutes. A quick trip out to the backyard to toss some garbage found the Impala still in his driveway. Tingles of excitement rushed over her skin. There was a very real probability that Dean could be keeping an eye out for her. That he’d been doing it for weeks produced a grin on her face throughout the day.

Now, her gaze lingered at the imposing shadow outlined against the beveled glass of the front door. A check in the mirror produced a nod. She inhaled and took in the surrounding scents. The perfume was not overpowering. The other aroma filling the air had her the most anxious. She couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

Julie pulled on the door and braced herself, leaning against the edge for support. Thank goodness she had. Spotlighted in a golden wash of technicolor, Dean stood at the base of the step up in a radiant glory. The man was actually glowing.

He was still taller than her by a few inches, even with her temporary height advantage. It afforded her the opportunity to only tilt her head up in a slight nod to gaze at his face.

His mouth cocked up the side in a sassy grin. It fell away as he gave her a once over, top to bottom. _Have at it, Mr. Winchester. I’m going to revel in the constant blushing you’ll be causing tonight. There it is, that damn lip licking. Good God._ His gaze rode its way up her body back to her face. His grip on the neck of the wine bottle tightened. “Evenin’.”

“Hi.” Her mouth managed to spill out the one word greeting. She stepped aside to welcome him in.

Dean stepped up into the entryway, now towering beside her. He took the lead to close the door with one hand, offering the bottle with the other. “Wine.”

She grinned. “Thank you.” She grabbed the bottle at the base, intent on avoiding any skin. She might jump his bones right there if they made contact. “Have a seat if you’d like.” Her nod pointed to the living room.

His nose twitched. A deep inhale followed. His posture straightened, gaining inches of stature. Julie pursed her lips and squashed a grin. “What’d you make?” he asked, eyes wide and hopeful.

This man standing in front of her was so _other_ level, so beyond reachable and enigmatic in terms of attractiveness and attitude. Top shelf and bottom of the barrel somehow all at once. A tailored three-piece suit mixed with a leather jacket worn out to perfection. But there was also something so approachable and knowing, as well, that made her willing to put herself out there.

_Is this what they mean by chemistry? It’s been so long, I forgot what it felt like._ She ripped the imaginary censor tape off her mouth. “You may have entered this house a single man, Dean, but, by the end of the night...” She trailed off.

A genuine, unadulterated smile lined his mouth. “Don’t tease, sweetheart.”

She laughed. “Why not? Can’t take what you so easily dish out?”

“Not where pie is concerned.”

“Sit. Please. Make yourself comfortable.”

He nodded and wandered toward the sofa. Those damn bowlegs and swagger getting all her attention and throwing her off her train of thought. Dark, midnight blue jeans and a deep forest green button up shirt, with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, hugged his figure. And the man was wearing cowboy boots. _Fucking cowboy boots. Kill me now._

Before he could turn around to catch her staring, she ducked into the kitchen to catch her breath. The white wine went into the fridge. Cool air from the open door skirted over and bathed her already goose-pimpled skin. “Can I get you something to drink?” She called out.

“Sure.”

“Bourbon?”

“You’ve got bourbon _and_ pie?!” She couldn’t quite make out the muttering that followed the quizzical exclamation. “That’d be great,” he said in a louder volume that carried clear into the kitchen.

Julie came back with two tumblers a minute later.

“You drink bourbon?” he asked. His fingers wrapped around hers as she passed the glass. His eyes lifted in what looked to be mild surprise with the touch.

She let the warmth of his rough hand permeate and wash under her skin. “No, actually. But, I figured you did.” She sat next to him on the couch, careful not to spill the small amount of liquor in her glass.

“Was it your goal to check off all my favorite things tonight?”

She shrugged and crossed her legs. “Wouldn’t say goal. Hope.”

Dean toasted in mid-air and took a sip. Brows rose. “Hm. Well done with the bourbon.” His gaze trailed over her floral print dress. The fabric had the right amount of flutter over her sleeves and flounce around her chest for Julie. The knee length skirt rested a tad high up her thigh, thanks to an intentional tug of her fingers when his eyes got to that destination. A lick of his lips, when the stare halted at the revealed skin, had been the hoped-for reaction. She sipped to hide the giddy grin. The liquid sliding down her throat was velvet fire. It forced her mind to concentrate on the sensory effect of something other than Dean Winchester.

His silent assessment resumed. But whether it had been seconds or minutes Julie could not be a reliable witness. He stopped again at her favorite nude-colored, closed-toe, strappy heels. She twirled her foot. Only one of Dean’s eyebrows rose that time.

The ensemble had been the easiest decision she’d made that day. It made her feel sassy, sexy, confident, and every ounce a woman.

An unexpected dart of his eyes shot back to hers. Held breath zapped out of her lungs like a popped balloon. She hoped the reaction didn’t look as ridiculous as it sounded. But there was no laugh or throat clearing from him. “You look really nice tonight.” He added, in that beguiling baritone, “But, I don’t think I’ve seen you not look nice.”

She smiled at how good he was at covering all bases. “Thank you.” Her fingers danced over the tumbler’s etched glass. “You mentioned asking me out on a proper date, but having no clue what that was.” She shrugged. “I’m a little rusty in that department. Thought this might ease us both into the idea.”

He smiled and thumbed the rim of his glass. “Rusty is not how I would describe it. So, why no dinner?”

She laughed. “Hey, I made dessert.” He returned her laugh with a chuckle. “I don’t know. Don’t tell Brigida I flat out refused to make you dinner. I’ll get my wooden spoon taken away as punishment.”

That produced an even deeper laugh out of Dean’s throat. Composure regained after another sip, he studied her through a side stare. “It’s almost like you had something else in mind that would be occupying our time.”

“Just talking.” She tried to flash him her most innocent smile.

“Riiight.” He dragged out the word. “Did your friends have a lot to talk about when I left last night?”

“So much… I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Hm. Catherine’s cute.”

Julie smiled. “She is.”

“So, I got the stamp of approval?”

“With some cautious reservations.”

“Sound like good friends.”

“They are. I don’t see them as often as I’d like to… you know, everyone always seems too busy to get together. But, Karen’s been checking up on me since she heard about Steve and...” She trailed off. _Great, already mentioning the ex._

Dean nodded and cut her off, “Were you all in a sorority together? Did you have sexy sleepovers?” He raised his brows in a quick and comical gesture.

Julie laughed at his levity and the obvious attempt to bail her out with a topic change. “No sorority. We just all ended up in the same hall of our dorm. Bonded over Spice Girls and Sambuca one night. That was all she wrote.”

A frown. “Spice Girls?”

She shrugged. “I’m a Pop girl. But, I do appreciate classic rock.”

“Appreciate? Do you listen to it? Make a concerted effort to seek it out? Speak the truth, sweetheart.” His tone was serious, demanding, and kind of pushy. _Damn. If he gets this worked up about music…_

“Not really.”

He sighed. “Can you name me one Zeppelin song?”

She shook her head.

He clutched at his heart. “Confirms it. You aren’t the perfect woman.” Another sigh escaped those full lips, longer and drawn out this time. A heavy nod followed the resolved expression. “I should go.” Forlorn, puppy dog eyes met hers.

_Jesus. Dramatic much?_ “If that’s really the deal breaker, then I guess you should go.” Julie played along.

He raised a finger. “How about this? You let me give you a crash course in classic rock one day. And, you promise never to subject me to the Spice Girls.”

Julie laughed. “I can’t promise that. But, I won’t intentionally play it in your presence, how about that?”

He produced a “Meh” and downturned his mouth.

“Are you quite the professor of rock and roll?”

“Oh yeah.” She found his eyes gazing with intent at her lips. “I could teach you a lot.”

The static charge was catapulting a frenzy of sexy into the room. Her body was drawn to his like a dowsing rod to water. Her ass shifted. Fingers rubbed over her neck, feeling the warmth. _I’m probably beet red._

Dean’s hand that held the tumbler rose. One of the fingers popped free from the grip and did a swinging point at her face. “No glasses.”

“I went with contacts tonight.”

He grinned, “And, you wore your hair down again.”

“You said you liked it...”

He leaned in a few inches. Her thought cut off at the action. His visage turned to stone; eyes almost primal in their focus on her mouth. Again. “I like a lot of things.”

_Holy shit._ She froze in place. Could only stare at the beauty. _Freckles. How did I not notice those before?_

“This is dangerous, Julie.” He pulled himself back.

“W-why? What’s dangerous?”

“You are doing everything in your power to push all my buttons.” He shook his head. “It’s sexy as hell. But it’s only going to end one way.”

“What way is that?” _Please say sex on this couch._

“Told you. Me turning into a jackass.”

_Way to be a downer, Dean._ Her lids narrowed. “Do you really believe that?”

He shrugged. “Decades of experience.”

“Can we just enjoy this?” Her plea was firm in its tone. “I’ve been through a crappy divorce from what turned out to be a turd of a husband hiding his yearlong shitty and adulterous behavior.” She closed her eyes. “I’d like to believe that we are two damaged adults that deserve some flirting and feel good times right now. I’m trying not to ‘what if’ you into the circling drain of catastrophic proportions.”

When she opened her eyes after the rant, she found him smiling.

She nodded. “Pie?”

His grin spread. “Pie.”

*

Three more glasses of bourbon on Dean’s end had loosened him into a comfortable heap on the sofa. He was on his third piece of pie, too. Julie had been mindful and stuck to the one glass. The pie, however, called out for a second slice to be cut. The conversation had shot into that wonderful galaxy of transitions and rabbit holes, where struggling to find the original thought only led to more discovery.

“Okay,” Dean shifted in his seat, “tell me one good thing about your ex.” He dusted some crust from the side of his mouth back onto the plate.

“Ugh,” she frowned.

“You just said you try to find one good thing about anyone and anything.”

“I didn’t think you were going to call me out on it.”

He smiled. “I’m sure you can. It was ten years, right?”

She eyerolled, turning pensive. “Steve always put the seat down.”

Dean laughed. “Gotta give him more than that.” He pointed at her. “Or, I blame you for staying that long.”

She sighed and plucked an apple with her fork. “He was a hard worker. He loved my mom, even though she always rode him for not being ‘the man’ she thought he should be. Not that my mom has a great grasp of a healthy male/female dynamic, mind you. He always tried to make her happy. And, by extension, me happy.” She went deeper. “He was romantic, even when I’d try to mess up his plans and be a grump. He was big on romance, for a long time.”

She caught Dean inspecting whatever reaction washed over her face. His gaze softened. “What happened?”

Julie shrugged. “Maybe I took him for granted. Maybe he took me for granted. Maybe a mid-life crisis turned his brain to mush and he thought he’d find happiness with a twenty something yoga instructor. I don’t know. He never offered an explanation. And, I didn’t want to hear one, anyway.”

“Yoga instructor?” Dean grinned.

Julie grinned at Dean’s grin. “You’re thinking about how bendy she is, aren’t you?”

He chuckled. “I dated a yoga instructor. I know how bendy they are.”

“Do tell.”

His eyebrows rose. “You want details?”

Her bare feet, having long kicked off the heels, slid onto the sofa cushion and nestled under her ass and skirt. “All the details.” Another bit of pie slid into her mouth.

“She was pretty amazing.” He grabbed at the glass on the floor beside his spot and took a gulp. His reminiscent stare into the liquor heated Julie up again. He grinned, not meeting her eyes. “She could get into these positions… well, it was… awesome.” He returned the glass to its spot and focused on the pie plate. “Lisa was great on lots of levels.”

There was a palpable warmth to his memory. _How long will it take me to think of Steve with even an ounce of that fondness? Will I ever be able to again?_ “Were you with her long?”

“Little over a year.” He stretched a bit and brought his eyeline back up to meet hers. “When I tried the normal life thing.” His eyes rounded like saucers. “God, that was like... over a decade ago. Ben’s in his twenties now.”

“Ben?”

“Lisa’s son.”

“Do you keep in touch?”

“Nah. It was better to cut ties. Have them move on, like I’d never messed up their life to begin with.”

“I’m sure you didn’t…”

“I did.” Dean nodded with certainty. “But, it was better after me, I guarantee it. What about you, though? Ten years. I mean, how are you doing with that kind of change?”

“Does it sound bad if I say it wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be?”

Dean smiled.

“I mean, the betrayal, the dishonesty, the collapse of my marriage. Yeah, that was devastating and had me on the fast track to a pint of Ben and Jerry’s every night. I cried for weeks… tried to keep my work life together during the day just to come home, wrecked, to an empty, fucking huge house… because he was staying over at Chelsea’s apartment until he got a new place.”

His face deadpanned. “Her name was Chelsea?”

Another eyeroll. “Yeah. And, our ‘marriage’ friends hightailed it out of existence… probably because most of them had known and didn’t want me to know that I knew that they knew.” She watched Dean try to process her ramble. She laughed at how absurd she sounded. “It was tough. I started to go to therapy again.” She waved a hand in the air. “Then, I found this place.” She slowed her breathing. “I had something that was mine again. Just mine. I don’t know, it kind of centered me.”

His cocky grin returned. “I hear the view’s pretty great, too.”

“The view is awesome.” Julie giggled.

“Oh, man.” He let out a huge yawn and leaned into the crook of the sofa’s corner. He slid like a serpent on his back, molding into the cushions. His legs draped over the edge. The empty pie plate and fork rested on the center of his chest, teetering a bit. “I’m feeling really good right now.” A beefy, muscled arm raised over his head. He clutched the armrest. His eyes closed.

“I bet.” Julie mumbled, staring.

An eye shot open. “Open invitation to come on over and find out.” He teased and knocked a knee against one of hers.

The ping pong game of flirting had been ongoing, with neither one missing a return yet. “But, I might take advantage of you, in this drunken state of yours.”

“Take, woman, take.” He grumbled and shut his eyes again. “Seriously, though…”

“Hm?” Julie deposited her empty plate on the side table.

“Did your husband not eat? Did he hate sweets? Cause, just as an act of self preservation and I don’t know… non-stupidity… to give up ever eating your mom’s food… or, taste your baked goods again…” The brows twitched suggestively above his closed eyes.

_Dirty, cheesy jokes. He’s lucky he’s so damn good looking._ “Maybe Chelsea’s a good cook?” Julie offered.

Dean’s eyes batted open in a lazy gesture. “Yeah, and I’ve won the Nobel friggin’ Peace Prize.” He wagged a finger. “Now, if he’s anything like my brother, I might understand the short sightedness on his part.”

“Is your brother an asshole?” Julie grinned.

He chuckled. “No. He’s very fond of kale, though. He could resist your food charms.” Dean licked his lips, his chin to his chest, eyeing her. “But, he’s not blind. And, if he wasn’t already in a committed relationship…”

Julie gave him her best sexy side eye. “What?”

“We’d probably have to rock paper scissors for it.”

She tilted her head. “For what?”

“The chance to try out our best moves on you.” Dean rose up in slow motion to a sitting position, man splaying into her half of the couch. He slid the fork and plate onto the nearby coffee table.

_You got this._ Julie was keenly aware of how her entire body thrummed to her heartbeat. And how soaked her panties were. _Just talking to him and being in close proximity is wrecking me… what would happen if..._ She readjusted her sitting position as well, crossed her legs, and clenched her thighs together. _Got me slippery enough to slide off the damn couch._ “Do I have a say in the matter? What’s your brother like?”

“Oh, he’s a total nerd. Living in San Jose, trying to finally get a law degree from Stanford.”

“Lawyer material, huh?” Julie gave him an impressed nod.

“Okay, calm down.” Dean raised a hand in jest. “Like I said, he’s taken. And, you wouldn’t like him.” Dean shook his head with certainty.

Julie giggled. “You don’t know that. I consider myself somewhat of a nerd. Maybe we’re kindred spirits. What’s he look like?”

Dean sighed and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. Julie marveled, realizing that neither one of them had glanced at a phone over the past hour. The television had remained off as well. His finger tapped and scrolled for some time before showing her his screen. “That’s him and his girlfriend, Eileen.”

Julie’s eyebrows rose. “Wow. Your family gene pool is quite impressive.”

“Well, thank you.” He smirked. “But, still, I think I’d have a better shot. I mean, look at his hair.”

“Very bouncy. Really cute.” She noted some slight agitation from him as she continued to stare at the picture. He pulled the phone away and slipped it back into his pocket. Pushing ALL of his buttons was turning out to be very entertaining. “My brother and his family live in San Francisco. Not too far from San Jose. Maybe I should pay him a visit the next time I find myself over there.”

“Yeah, well… he’s a bit high maintenance. Me, on the other hand… ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

“So, you’re easy going?”

His lips jutted out into an exaggerated pout. “I don’t know if I’d say ‘easy going’. Easy maybe.” He winked.

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em type then?”

“Pretty much. But, there was an underlying reason. It wasn’t all about me being an ass.” He took another swig of his drink. “That’s why…” his tongue smacked against the roof of his mouth, “I really shouldn’t be here. The family business I was in for so long... It put anyone my brother and I got close to in danger. It was better to stay unattached.” He tilted the glass in her direction. “And, you haven’t lubricated me with enough liquor, or dessert, to get more info outta me on that.” The gaze dropped into his glass.

_You’ve got me lubricated enough, you full time fucking flirt._ Julie screwed her lips together. She took some time to gather her thoughts. “Is that what happened with Lisa? She ended up in danger?”

He clenched his jaw. That was enough of a response.

“But, your brother has a girlfriend now.”

“Yeah. Goin’ on two years.”

“Something changed then, when you moved on from the family business?”

He nodded, a grin slow to form as he looked back up. “You could say the family business went out of business. Our services weren’t needed as much.”

“So, he isn’t worried about his girlfriend’s safety? Your brother?”

“She was in the same business for a long time. Can take care of herself. I don’t think she’s a Spice Girls fan.” A wicked smirk unfurled.

Julie took silent offence at the dig. She nodded, processing the information to continue her original line of questioning. “Danger still out there?”

He shrugged and dropped the glass. “No, not really. I mean, not like it was. Every so often there’s a blip. But, I’d say it’s been the quietest I’ve known in… well, forever.”

“You are only making me more curious, you know that, right?”

Dean leaned in. One hand dragged along her dangling calf. Those rough, calloused fingers lit her up like flint against a match. Her nose scrunched as she tried to maintain some composure. The smile on his face sparked up into his eyes. Those damn crinkles multiplied. “Are you getting frustrated?”

“No.”

“Cause I’ve seen you make that face when it looks like you were frustrated.”

She sighed. “Maybe a little frustrated.”

He slid along the seat, bending his leg like snipping scissors to get closer. The oh so warm calf wedging along her thigh. An arm snaked behind her on the couch. Nostrils flared, sniffing the air like a hungry bloodhound. “I can take care of that for you, Julie.” He whispered. “All you gotta do is ask.” He teased out a smile. “Tell me what you want.” He paused. “What you really…” Another long pause. “Really.” Even longer. “Want.” The word slipped out of his mouth, slow and tasty, with a click of his teeth at the end for even more dramatic effort.

Awareness of what he had just done made her grin.

His head tilted. “I may have come across ‘Spice World’ on cable a few times while channel surfing. Being in the middle of a Baby and Ginger sandwich might be fun.” He inhaled deep again, and a quick dart of his gaze fell to her lap before coming back to scan her facial features.

_Shit, can he smell how wet and excited he’s making me?_ “What do you want?” She held his stare, desperately trying to keep some control of her faculties. Even though every cell in her body was begging to give in to the temptation that was Dean Winchester. “Are you looking for a woman that knows this mysterious family business like your brother’s girlfriend?”

The focus of his hypnotic green, glassy eyes traced over different spots on her face. She admired his ridges and furrows and planes up close. The slope of his nose was a perfect angled dream. Evidence of a hard life lived was scattered all over amid the youthful, sin-full lips and speckling of freckles. There was earned wisdom in his eyes behind the golden flecked irises. She couldn’t remember the last time she was in the presence of anyone so very handsome and beautiful. _And?_ There was something else she’d been trying to pinpoint since she chanced on him, in the dark, that first night. The words slammed into her mind. _Tragic. But, not just that. Heroic._

He remained quiet, stoic. Not answering her questions. Only wrecking her with his inspection, intent on getting her to concede. She pushed through, answering her own query. “Cause, fun little fact, I’m probably not that kind of woman. I’m guessing that woman is badass.” His fingers traced the skin by her sleeve. She was melting, drowning. And it was heaven. _Ah, fuck it._ “Now, if you’re looking for a one and done type situation…?”

He shook his head. “No. Not with you. I’m pretty sure I want to have you all sorts of ways. Not just one and done.”

The vocal confirmation made her lips twitch up. “Don’t tell anyone, but I kind of like your chauvinistic, caveman style.”

“Oh, I’m telling everybody.” He whispered, even closer now. Bourbon and cinnamon-apple breath danced over her lips. “But, for clarification,” the tease was still stroking her calf, “what exactly is my chauvinistic, caveman style?” He gave her a little head tilt. “You know, when I tell everybody.”

“Hm, well, you walked me home that one night.”

“That’s just looking out for your safety. I’d say that’s the opposite of caveman. Otherwise, I’d just drag you back by your hair to my lair.” He urged for more details with a roll of his fingers on her shoulder.

“But thinking I can’t look out for myself could be considered…” She slammed her mouth shut. _I really don’t want to get into a debate on feminism with this man right now._ His stare was far away and centered all at once. One finger stroked the upward curve of her neck, just under her earlobe. The gaze broke from her eyes, now interested in the same spot as that finger. His entire body leaned into her right side. _So fucking close._ “Um,” she hesitated.

“Come on. You gotta give me more than that.” His nose nuzzled into the wavy curls against her neck. He inhaled. An almost imperceptible moan emerged from his throat on the exhale.

She sighed and leaned into the enticing action. “I guess it’s not a style exactly. More like an aura?”

His posture tipped back, enough to brush his cheek along her jawline. His scruff rubbing like fine grit sandpaper. And, goddamn, his lips were so close to hers for a fraction of a second. “Aura?” The one word released in a jagged, hot breath. He dipped back toward her neck.

“You’re very… male…”

He chuckled against tender flesh. Goosebumps formed. She twitched at the almost touch. “I hope so.”

“I don’t know. You seem so… strong… capable… take charge. I think you’d make a very lucky lady feel safe. If you gave yourself the chance to try.”

And then, she felt it. The pressure of his soft, full lips rested at the base of her neck. They sizzled, lit the fuse. His hands wrapped around her in an instant. He gripped her into a bear hug of the hottest proportions. Their chests melded together, his muscles pressing into her soft curves. Firm, unmoving. Even his lips remained still. His heartbeat, however, that pulsed through her own skin.

She jolted at the sensation of his tongue teasing out from his lips, tasting her. His smile seared into her skin. Then, light kisses ran up her jaw. She tilted her head up, providing him full access to whatever the fuck he wanted. He trailed the outline of her chin with his lips. She dared open her eyes when his mouth retreated.

She had not been prepared for the look of want. His fingers tangled into her hair and clutched the back of her scalp. He moaned, low and deep, a second before his lips crushed her mouth with a coveting force and ownership. He brushed into the red and raw underside of her own lips, producing a wet, slick heat and easy undulations. The sway of his mouth back and forth, slow and prodding, opened her to him. The introduction of his probing tongue had her gasp. She felt the sound travel down his throat.

She hooked arms under his massive biceps and latched onto sharp shoulder blades, holding on for the ride. The stronghold manipulated her like a ragdoll with every kiss and suck and lick. He broke from her mouth and rested his forehead against hers. “You OK?” She smiled at how out of breath he sounded. He leaned back and inspected her face. She nodded, noting how fast her heart was beating. “Cause, I can stop… like, right now. It’s probably better if I do that. And, maybe, we try that proper date… before things get too out of hand.” 

“Is that what you want to do right now?” She tried to catch her breath.

“Hell, no.” He smiled. His fingers massaged her scalp and pressed into the small of her back. “But, maybe… I should give myself the chance to try.”

She groaned. “Don’t use my own words against me.” She bit her lip, then mumbled. “You feel really good.”

“So do you, sweetheart.” He brushed his lips along her forehead. “So do you.”

She unfurled her arms from his back. “Going to be all adultish.”

“I know. Adulting sucks.” He sighed. “When do we do this date thing?”

“Soon.”

A childish grin curled up his lips. “Sweet. Well,” he licked his lips, wiping away any innocence, and peeled his body from hers, frowning as he did so. “Let me take you out to dinner one night, maybe next weekend? No food or dessert prepared by you. And, I’m not going to even think about taking you to an Italian place.”

She smiled. “Good call.”

“Steak?” His eyebrows rose.

“Sounds good.”

“Awesome.” He stood up and grabbed his drink, finishing it, then picked up his dessert plate. “I’ll make a reservation and let you know when.”

“But, you might have to cancel if work…”

He raised a finger. “Then you have permission to slap me if I stand you up again.”

She laughed, then frowned realizing his current intention. “You’re leaving?”

“Too much temptation if I stay.” He stared down at her. “I mean, all I want to do right now…” He shook his head. “Going to go put these away.” He darted to the kitchen.

She stood up and adjusted her skirt. “I was going to give you a piece of pie.”

“Ohhh, I know you were.” He called from the other room and ran some water in the sink. When he rounded the doorway, he donned a wide, toothy grin. “Save me a slice for later?”

“Let me just...” She started to walk toward him and the front door.

He raised his hands. “Nope. Nope. Safer if you stay there.” He rubbed his hands along his thighs, drawing Julie’s attention to the rather impressive bulge in his jeans. “Cause I’ll want to give you a kiss goodnight…”

“And, it won’t end there?” She strolled over.

“Really, Julie.” He backed toward the front door. “I won’t be responsible for my actions if you keep it up.”

“I’m supposed to consider that a threat?”

He laughed. “Thank you. Good night.” The door opened from behind his back and he slid out with a wave and a wink.

Julie pressed her lips together. The phantom tingle of his mouth lingered. Her tongue ran over the top lip. Bourbon puckered her taste buds. She sighed and headed to the kitchen to clean up with her half-eaten pie slice. She could feel the stupid smile settling into her face for the rest of the night. “I’m in such delicious trouble.”


	6. Chapter 6

On Wednesday, Julie and Kelly had a late work lunch at one of their favorite little spots off Market Street. The gyros there were fantastic. The restaurant’s tiny back patio, wedged tight and cramped amid the other brick buildings, was quirky enough to be a distraction from the daily doldrums of the downtown banking atmosphere. A thick aroma of spices and grease drifted out from the kitchen’s open window off the patio. An occasional pot clanged or the cook barked out a loud directive to someone.

“If I have to sit through one more of Leslie’s Zoom presentations about balance sheet protocol,” Kelly was still ranting about the meeting that made them have to wait for dolmades and spicy hummus.

Julie’s phone vibrated on her lunch tray atop the iron latticed table, shaking her silverware. She swiped away, still semi listening to Kelly, and dipped her gyro in the tzatziki sauce ordered on the side.

_Hey, Jules._

Julie grinned at the screen and tapped. _Hey, Dean._ She chomped down on the gyro before the sauce made a mess. It was hard to grin and chew, but she found it difficult to not have a smile on her face most of this week. And the reason for her glee could be traced back to him.

“Oh. It’s him again.” Kelly shoveled more hummus into her mouth with a pita chip. A hand curtained her chewing and simultaneous commentary. “He’s like clockwork.” She tipped a wrist to stare at her smartwatch. “Yep. 1:30. He’s probably got an alarm on his phone to message you at this time everyday.”

Julie couldn’t argue the fact that the man seemed to have a routine. He’d texted her every day since Saturday night. And, it always seemed to start after 1:00.

“Aw, crap.” Kelly rose up and grabbed her tray. “I’ve got to get that transaction detail report straightened out before the end of day. Shannon has dance practice tonight, I can’t stay late to finish it. Damn Leslie.”

Julie was about to get up.

“Finish lunch. I’ll see you back in the office.” Kelly nodded to Julie’s phone. “Give you two some privacy. No sexting.”

Julie shook her head and waved, then focused on his text.

_I made a reservation at Makenzie’s for Friday. I hope seven is good._

_Seven is perfect. Makenzie’s is kind of formal, though._

_Yeah, as I was told by the hostess over the phone. No jeans. Suit jacket required._

_You good with that?_

_What, you don’t think I own a jacket? I clean up pretty good._

_I have no doubt about that._

His retort only took a couple seconds to display. _But I can be pretty dirty, too._

Julie bit her lip and checked over her shoulder to make sure she was still the only person on the patio. The narrow interior of the restaurant was bubbling, not boiling, with activity. An overcast threat hanging in the sky over most of that day kept all the patrons inside. All but Julie.

_Not gonna bite?_ Dean continued.

_How dirty?_

_As filthy as you want._

They had skirted towards the edge of this type of texting all week. Kelly hadn’t been that far off in her deduction. Dangling innuendos had promised to plunge into descriptions of hundreds of sexual acts and favors. It never went over the edge, though. And that had driven Julie insane with thoughts of Dean doing everything she could think of to her.

Daydreaming had sidelined and confused any ability to respond. It was a minute before Dean typed back. _Sorry, I didn’t even think to ask if you were busy working before laying it all out there._

_Hey, at least you haven’t sent me any NSFW pics._

_Hold on...._ Dean punctuated the text with a wink emoji.

_No! Dean!_

She tapped the screen off and dropped the phone like a hot potato. Chewing on a mouthful of lamb gyro with her eyes shut wasn’t enough to distract her from the buzz a minute later. She swallowed, heart racing, and an itchy finger went to see what he’d sent.

It took a second to process what she was looking at. _Baby Dean?_

He’d taken a picture of a picture… a polaroid to be exact. The muted colors dated the photo by decades. As did the mint green shag carpet under a naked toddler, mooning the picture taker.

_You were a cute baby._

_Yeah? How about that ass?_

Julie giggled. _Chubby cheeks. With a hint of diaper rash._

_Well, I can tell you that the rash has cleared up. Cheeks are still a nice handful, though._

_I guess I’ll have to find out for myself, won’t I?_

_Sure as hell hope so._ The bubbles hopped for a bit before he finally dropped another line. _You alone right now?_

Julie swallowed. _Yeah._

_I’ve been thinking about you. A lot. I’m getting a little worried._

The idea that she could be occupying this man’s thoughts as much as he was hers heated up her skin. A pulse in her core made her shift in the patio chair. He was going to turn her into a puddle just in time to return to work. She’d be slick the entire walk back if she didn’t stop in the restaurant’s bathroom and clean herself up.

_I doubt you’re thinking about me as much as I’m thinking about you._

_You’re making it hard for me to fall asleep._

She smiled and inserted a raised hand emoji.

_And, when I do get to sleep, I’m waking up in the afternoon… after dreaming about you._

Dean’s texts had become confessional-like the past week. Perhaps the anonymity of messaging made him more comfortable to express things he wouldn’t in person or verbally? It had always been that way with her preferred method of communication. But, the weak spots in this man’s wall were weathered and flaking away in random spots, with no rhyme or reason.

She inserted a raised hand emoji again. _Except I have to get up early for work. Why haven’t you come over to see me then, if I’m taking up all this time?_

_Told you the other night, I don’t trust myself to stop once things get past a certain point._

That did it. Her flood gates had officially opened down below.

He continued. _So, consider this a warning. I won’t likely adhere to that three-date rule before I have my way with you. I never have followed rules that don’t make sense much._

Julie grinned. _We’ll get you off on a technicality. We can say we’ve already had three dates. Dinner on the patio. The cake we shared at your place. Bourbon and pie at mine._

_You’ll get me off?_ Surprised emoji.

Julie giggled, then reddened when she turned and noticed a twink busboy cleaning up the only other table on the patio. She straightened up in her seat and tried to act how she thought a forty year old woman should in public.

_Can’t wait._ Dean offered a wink emoji. _Listen, I’ll be away for a couple days. But back in time for our date. I won’t miss it._

_I’ve been told I can slap you if you do._

_Sweetheart, you can even spank me if I do._

*

“Damnit, Leslie.” That was Julie’s response to the distant doorbell ring drifting up the stairs to her bedroom. She was gliding on lipstick when the sound made her hand jump. The berry red careened over the lip liner she had spent minutes applying with the utmost precision.

Her nose wrinkled at the current state of her mouth. She cursed and grabbed her phone, dialing Dean’s number. Her stomach knotted up tight.

“Hey.” The one word greeting from Dean melted her insides. She hadn’t heard that deep voice, or the gritty undertone, in almost a week.

“H-hey.” She frowned at her mirrored reflection. The foundation did nothing to hide the red heat blooming over her skin. “Is that you at the door?”

“Yeah. Are you alright?” His voice held concern. “Don’t tell me you aren’t coming out and I have to break the door down?”

She laughed. _God, why is that such a turn on?_ “No. I’m just running late. Work took longer than I expected… I had back to back meetings all day.” 

“Take your time, I’ll wait in the car.”

“Makenzie’s might not wait, though, if we’re late.”

“Let me worry about the reservations. You go get dolled up, doll.”

It was an antiquated and condescending term by today’s standards. Yet, hearing that endearment from his mouth made her grin like a schoolgirl. “Okay.”

“Let me know when you’re coming down.” He ended the call.

It took another fifteen minutes on Julie’s end to get “dolled up.” Her indecision annoyed her since she’d gotten home. Nothing had gone as planned the entire day. Plus, the little black dress she thought she’d wear had a grease stain on it upon closer inspection. She had to go with a flowy black skirt and off the shoulder, three-quarter, scarlet red sleeve top. The combo hit her at the waist in what she considered an unflattering manner. A belt only seemed to make it worse so she kept accessories to a minimum.

She raised her hands in defeat at the top to toe look in the full length mirror. At least she had some confidence in her choice to slip on a pair of classy black heels. She traipsed down the stairs. Upon a second check, everything she needed for the evening was in her clutch. A meditative inhale and exhale with closed eyes prepared her to see Dean. Finally ready, she walked out the front door and locked up behind her.

The Impala idled in the driveway. Rays from the setting sun hung low in the sky and sparked off the car’s blacktop. Baby was literally glowing. The white halo effect obscured much of Julie’s view around the car. She walked down the path to the driveway, dropping keys into her clutch.

A squeak and slam of the front door rattled in her ears. “Hey. I thought you were going to let me know when you came down.” She heard his voice. “Was going to do the proper date thing and meet you at the front door.” His figure emerged from the light and bounded up the two path steps like he was the lightest thing ever to stand on two feet. She halted at the sight.

She noticed the brown dress boots first as they settled on the concrete. Their beautiful worn quality juxtaposed the slim tan khakis immodestly advertising the pronounced curve of his bowlegs. Her gaze dared to travel upwards. Her breath hitched. The man was wearing a well-tailored navy blue blazer. The jacket enunciated every damn syllable of his perfect torso, from the ever so slight taper of his waist to the broadness and sharp angles of his shoulders, to the forearms and biceps straining against the fabric. A pale blue button down shirt, with a micro checkered pattern peeked out from under the fastened blazer. He dared to leave two of the top shirt buttons undone. The sharp, crisp collar rested around his muscled neck. His hair was parted in a more formal style. He’d even taken a razor to his scruff and was clean shaven. But every other aspect was the enticing and irresistible Dean Winchester she had been blessed to experience.

He strolled up with a grin plastered on his face. “Worth the wait.” He added, upon similar ogling of her figure. He had the audacity to produce a jaw clench under those smooth cheeks along with everything else he was throwing at her.

Her mouth opened, its interior the only dry thing about her body at that moment. She squeaked out, “Thanks.”

He nodded to the car. “Come on and meet my girl.”

Julie smiled and followed him down the path. Her gaze held on the curve of his ass, wrapped in khaki, teasing her from under the hem of his blazer. A waft of his cologne breezed past. _Jesus, is that scent called ‘Fuck Me Right Here And Now’?_

He opened and held the passenger side door. His fingers clenched the door’s frame, a bit tighter, when she skirted past him. “You smell nice.”

She smiled, all intelligence drained from her brain. Only instinct and arousal remained. “You too.” The bench seat dipped when she sat. A coil poked from under the massive cushion into an ass cheek. Once she got situated he closed the door with a firm click and wandered around the large corners of the vehicle. It seemed like an eternity. Her hand searched for an expected belt up by her shoulder. When Dean finally joined her in the interior, she got a better idea of the expansiveness. They were feet away from each other and he dangled his legs open in a comfortable posture. He smiled. “What are you doing?”

“Seat belt?” she questioned.

“Oh.” He scooted over and dug a hand into the cushion crevice by her ass. His stare held hers. Fingers took their time in their search and his other hand swiped over her waist. He grazed the curve of her hip and whispered, “Lap belts.”

She swallowed and heard the click.

His hands retreated, but his stare didn’t. “There. Not goin’ anywhere.” He moved back to his original position. “Ready?” He didn’t wait for an answer and shifted into reverse, rolling down the driveway.

She was going to ask if he was going to put on his own seat belt, then realized Dean Winchester probably didn’t. She filed that away for a discussion for another time if… _If what? You think you might be able to convince this man to wear a seat belt?_ His hands caressed the gears and steering wheel like Baby was a well known lover. _I’m getting jealous of a car._

“I’m gonna have to go a little faster than I was intending, if we want to make it in time for our reservation.” He launched up the neighborhood lane.

Julie reacted to the push and pull of the direction change. “It’s ten of seven.” She offered. “Twenty minutes to get there, when there isn’t traffic.”

The right side of his mouth arched up. “Trust me.”

*

Dean was none too pleased about the valet service that was a requirement at Makenzie’s. “Don’t get a mark on her.” He narrowed his eyes at the young man with the high-pitched voice that he had to relinquish Baby over to.

They had made it in time for the reservation, with a minute to spare. The entire ride was a blur of landscape and road way. Julie had struggled to find some part of the car to clutch during those nine heart stopping minutes.

The dinner had gone by in a blur as well. His company was wonderful, easy and unassuming. And his presence hypnotized her across the candlelight and white cotton cloth draping their table. He laughed at the salad placed in front of him prior to the main course, with its curled carrots and frisee lettuce, calling it rabbit food. But there was nothing but reverence and admiration for the large glass of ale, massive t-bone, baked potato, and green beans. He moaned quite a bit during dinner, smirking every time. He knew exactly what he was doing.

The one weird coincidence had been meeting the talkative dog walker from the park from a couple weeks ago. Ina was their water pourer, along with the three other servers it took for the entire meal. She smiled and reintroduced herself to Julie. Her face was taken aback by Dean, as Julie was now getting used to that reaction. They chit chatted a bit here and there throughout the meal. Dean offered her a killer smile, but not much else in terms of information.

She noted the stares and gazes that followed the man strolling behind her as they left. When Baby rolled up beside them Dean opened the door for Julie again and stuffed a bill in the kid’s hand. “I’ll be back if there’s a scratch.” He threatened. Julie frowned at the fear on the boy’s face. But, she didn’t pay him much thought after that. The two glasses of wine had mellowed her. The fire in her core continued to get stoked by Dean, however.

Dean appeared comfy and content sliding into the driver’s seat, with his unbuttoned blazer and his collar a tad askew. He’d downed a good two pints over the last hour and a half. “That was nice.” He commented as he drove out of the parking lot. The street lights glowed above them in the dark.

Julie nodded. “It was. Thank you.”

“Night’s not over. May not want to thank me just yet.” He shifted in his seat taking the turn out into the avenue. He drove at a respectable speed now, adhering to the limit. Restaurants littering the streets lit up Julie’s view from the passenger window. Her eyes returned to stare at him, though. Blue light danced over the contours and slopes of his face and that devastating figure. He looked straight out of a Noir film.

At a red light, he leaned over, flipping open the glove box with a tap and rifling through it with his fingers. He pulled out a cassette tape, punched the compartment closed, then eased the tape into the player. He immediately hit the rewind button.

“So, that crash course in classic rock...” His fingers turned the dial up as he took the ramp onto the highway. “Let’s see what we’ve got here to school you on.” He rolled down his window, the night air blowing into the car as his speed picked up for the merge. He cocked his head quick to the left to gauge his opportunity to change lanes and slid over with ease. His finger pressed the play button, then hovered over the volume in wait. Eyes narrowed in anticipation. He gave her a quick glance and grinned before his eyes went back to the highway in front of them.

Julie watched his smile light up in the grey. The volume went up even more. Strums from an acoustic guitar filled the cabin. He bellowed over the rush of wind and the music. “Ah, yes. This, young lady, is Led Zeppelin.” She grinned at his use of the word young. “Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Bonham. And, just so you know, on any given day, this,” he pointed to the tape player, “is probably my favorite song.”

His fingers tapped on the curves of the steering wheel to the rhythm. Large in diameter with narrow bars, the Impala’s steering wheel was wrapped in an old school leather cover. Julie remembered watching her dad wrap the steering wheel of his Mustang when she was little with a similar one. People who took that kind of time with their car loved them on a whole other level. Dean loved his car.

His head bobbed and he mouthed the lyrics in silence. And, it was beautiful to behold.

_For now I smell the rain ***_

_And with it pain_

_And it's headed my way_

_Ah, sometimes I grow so tired_

He pointed to the tape deck again and raised his brows for emphasis. “Here’s Page coming in with the electric guitar.” He hopped a bit in his seat, driving down the road without a care.

_But I know I've got one thing I got to do_

_Ramble on_

_And now's the time, the time is now_

_To sing my song_

_I'm goin' 'round the world, I got to find my girl_

He flashed a glance over at her after that line and smiled, wrecking her again.

_And though our health we drank a thousand times_

_It's time to ramble on_

A guitar solo took him somewhere else. As the lyrics continued and Julie listened with more intent, she heard mention of Mordor and Gollum. She wanted to ask him about the “Lord of the Rings” reference, but didn’t want to break the spell and complete bliss he was under.

_Ain't nothing I can do, no_

_I guess I keep on rambling_

_I'm gonna, yeah, yeah, yeah_

_Sing my song (I gotta find my baby)_

With a sudden and unexpected tug, he grabbed at her hand in the shadows. He leaned over and brushed his lips over her knuckles, then settled with his hold on her, tight and secure, back on the bench between them. With one hand on the wheel, he drove and fearlessly started to sing along. It wasn’t in tune, but it was pure and flowed with an ease of having done it a thousand times. He tapped her hand into the cushion.

_I gotta ramble on, sing my song_

_Gotta work my way around the world baby, baby_

_Ramble on, yeah_

_Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, my baby_

The track faded out and Dean turned to stare at her reaction. “What’d you think? Awesome right?” He nodded.

“Awesome.” She repeated and ran her thumb along a callous on his hand.

He squeezed back at the gesture, then retreated from the hold. The stereo volume went down. Hands switched on the wheel so he could roll up the window. “Sorry, I get a little carried away when it comes to Zeppelin.”

She shook her head. “Don’t ever apologize for allowing yourself to enjoy something that much.” She smiled. “The performance wasn’t bad.”

“Being sweet. Performance sucked.” Dean cleared his throat and gripped the wheel with both hands. “Only a couple constants in my life. No matter what, I could always just pop in a tape and drive.” He stared hard at the road.

Julie sat with him in comfortable silence for another song. He provided no commentary or details on the tune. They were both along for the melody and the drive. _A cowboy riding his sturdy, trusty steed_. Julie grinned to herself. He took a familiar exit ramp off the highway. She knew they’d be home soon. _Home. Mine? His?_ Any effect the wine had mellowing her disappeared in a moment. The reality of what might be transpiring the rest of the night sped up her heart. The few bars of a well known song began.

Julie giggled. “Journey? Is that classic rock? Cause I know Journey.”

Dean smiled and seesawed with his hand. “Debatable. A guilty pleasure, and very catchy. I’ve found this song on every jukebox in every bar I’ve stepped into. It caters to the lowest common denominator.”

“Drunks with no taste in music?”

He grinned. “People wanting to have a good time and forget their troubles. And, you know you’re going to hear this multiple times if you do a pub crawl.”

Julie nodded. “Plenty of experience with bars in my college years so I’m very well versed in Journey.”

He raised a brow and turned the volume back up. “Oh, yeah?”

She tapped fingers on her skirt to the beat. “Yep. Who hasn’t sung this offkey with hundreds of random strangers?”

They hummed along for the first couple verses. By the time the midnight train was going anywhere, Julie got the nerve to sing along with Steve Perry. Dean smiled in appreciation and then accompanied her when things went on and on, and on, and on. He let go of the wheel on a straight stretch of road to air guitar before turning into the neighborhood. A late night dog walker that Julie recognized got an earful of them both belting out "Don’t Stop Believin’" as Dean swerved past. The song, on cue, faded out when Dean pulled into her driveway.

Dean turned off Baby’s engine. “Definitely better when you sing it with someone.” His smile was stuck on full blast as Julie was sure hers was.

She nodded to the front door. “Coming in?”

“Oh, you know I am.” He grinned ear to ear now. Julie grabbed the door handle. “Ah, wait.” He ejected himself out of the car and jogged around the Impala. From the other side of the open door, he watched Julie rise from her seat. “Trying to score as many brownie points as I can.”

“We already had dessert at the restaurant. Still hungry?” Julie took the lead.

He shook his head, closing the car door, then following her up the path. “You’re dangling the carrot right in front of me with these comments.” He added.

She stopped abrupt in the path and stared over her shoulder. His pace broke and she definitely caught him checking out her ass that time. “Really? Coming from you? Dangling the carrot?” She grinned.

His shoulder tipped up.

She sighed. After what felt like forever fumbling she unlocked the door and gained entry. Julie dropped her bag and keys on the telephone table. Without being asked, Dean peeled off his suit jacket and hung it on a hook by the door. He scooted past her in the hallway and wandered into the living room. Fingers worked at the cuff buttons on his shirt. Julie swallowed. _Jesus, he’s not wasting any time. Getting right to work._ “D-do you want some bourbon?”

He turned, rolling up a sleeve so it hit just under his elbow. “Sure.”

“Be right back.” _This is happening._

She expected him splayed out on the couch when she returned with the two glasses. Instead, he stood peeking out the curtains into the backyard. He turned to her. “You really do have a nice view into my yard.” His outstretched hand grabbed the glass and toasted hers before sipping.

He’d gone full Dean, rolling up both sleeves, untucking and unbuttoning the checkered shirt to reveal a white tank. “You should see the view from my office.” She stated, paying more attention to his tongue licking his bourbon coated lips rather than heeding what spilled out of hers.

“Okay.” He agreed.

“Hm?”

“Well, I turned down a tour the first time it was offered.”

“Okay.” She took a sip and debated where to start.

Dean smiled. “Taste of bourbon growing on you?”

“I like it with you.” _God, cheese much?_

He began to walk toward her, forcing her to make a decision on her indecision.

She tapped her heels on the wood floor. Hugging the back of the arm chair she waved a hand in the air. “I think you’ve seen most of the first floor already.”

He nodded and pointed past her. “Kitchen, dining room, and bathroom are that way.”

“Down the hall past the bathroom is the guest room.”

He smiled. “Brigida uses that when she stays over?”

“Yep.”

His gaze lifted up to the ceiling. “So, your office is upstairs? And, _your_ bedroom?” That grin and those eyes were telepathically transmitting nasty notions into Julie’s brain.

“Uh-huh.”

He downed the rest of the bourbon with a dramatic flair in one slow gulp, showcasing his Adam’s apple. It took only one long stride for him to stand in front of her. “Gonna finish your drink?”

A small sip was all she could manage, leaving some bourbon. His warm fingers wrapped around her grip. Prying the glass from her hand, he then finished her pour and placed their glasses on a side table. “After you.” He motioned to the stairs, a softer smile on his lips now.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._ Her heels echoed up the steps to the first landing. She clung to the rail for dear life and continued upwards. The creaking floorboards under his boots, close behind, amplified in her buzzing ears. One of her table lamps had timed on hours ago at the top of the stairs in the spacious landing.

He inspected the surroundings in the warm light and met her in the middle of the floor atop a circular area rug.

“This is kind of my little loft. Closet over there.” She cleared her throat. “Behind you is my office slash other guest room.”

Dean did a quick 180 and strolled through the darkened doorway. In a second he’d found the light switch. “Ah. Wow, it really is very... officey.” She smiled at the description and wandered in behind him. He looked with his hands as well as his eyes, touching the spine of random books on the bookshelf and tapping a key or two on the keyboard. When the lock screen appeared, he tisked. “Not gonna make it easy for me to snoop with a password.” He strolled over to the large cork board mounted on the wall, filled with photos.

Julie provided an explanation without being asked. “That has been with me for the past twenty or so years. Not much has changed on it since the turn of the century.”

His eyes squinted and he leaned in closer, ducking and rising to take in all of the randomness of her younger years. Concert ticket stubs and postcards scattered amid celebrity crush pinups, childhood moments and class photos. He smiled and pointed at one picture. “That you?”

Julie walked to his right and confirmed. “Yep.”

“A bowl haircut, huh?” He chuckled.

“I was six. Not like I had much say.”

“You were a cute kid.”

She was about to thank him when he turned to the windows with the shades drawn. “So, the view is pretty great from here?”

“It is.”

He leaned against the front of one couch cushion, then propped a knee upon it. He grabbed at one of the strings and pulled. He frowned at the darkness revealed. “Can’t see much now.”

“You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

Dean released the cord. The shade dropped back in position. Without warning, he eased from the couch lean and shuffled over to halt inches in front of her. Big hands cupped under her chin and tilted her face up and up. _So damn tall._ She had no choice but to meet his stare. His words came out serious and slow. “I’m going to kiss you now, Julie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** Lyrics are from "Ramble On" by Led Zeppelin - co-written by Jimmy Page and Robert Plant


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some smut. :-) But, probably not enough. You've been warned.

What little air was left in her lungs released at his statement. He smiled and bent down. His mouth pressed to hers. Her lips parted. He took care of any remaining breath she had with a deep inhale through his mouth. He broke for a second, allowing her to gasp. A dart of his tongue outlined her top lip, then her bottom.

“You taste so good.” He whispered. His tongue delved into her open and waiting mouth.

She moaned, following his lead to explore his hungry mouth.

He only gave her a few seconds to do so, shifted her away in a slight push, sighed, and kissed her forehead. He spoke through a kiss swept over the skin. “Would you show me your bedroom?”

All she could do was nod.

He tugged her out of the office by one hand in a backwards stroll. Once in the landing he spun behind her and maintained a firm grip on her hand. At first, her mind perceived it as some sort of awkward dance move he had not executed very well. But he’d imprisoned her right arm, bending it at the elbow, tight between his chest and her back. The unexpected handling caused her chest to arch forward. _Jesus, he’s got me restrained._ The realization would have sparked fear with any other man in any other situation. But her heart was racing due to the excitement of what this dominant display could mean for the events unfolding.

“Too much?” He asked. She responded with a slight shake of her head. He groaned with eagerness and wrapped his other arm over her chest, forcing her to straighten and lean into him. “I’m going to enjoy finding out what you like.” Taut muscles leaned into her curves. “Wild guess, but I’m thinking good ole Steve didn’t take care of most of your needs.” His massive thigh wedged into and parted her shaky legs. It rocked and shimmied against her ass and the back of her thighs, forcing her to try and keep balanced under his grip. A pleasant friction built and built in her core. The growing bulge of his own excitement pressed into her lower back. “The sweet ones can be pretty kinky, with the right stimulation, I’ve found.” _Oh my God._ The man was manipulating and shifting her panties - with his goddamn thigh - to arouse her even more. _How many times do you do something like that to be able to do it so well?_ The cotton bunched up between her ass cheeks turning it into a thong. Fabric caught into her wet folds and rubbed against her clit. She moaned.

He swiped his nose and chin across the slope of her neck. Her bare left shoulder was introduced to his mouth grazing over flesh. He lit up every cell with his touch. “Bedroom.” He whispered the demand after nipping and pulling at a bit of skin with his teeth.

Her eyelids fluttered. “I-I don’t even know my name right now, let alone where my bedroom is.” She bit her lip and closed her eyes at his devilish laugh.

He released her arm from the stronghold and ran his hands up and down her sides in a gentle, soothing gesture. She felt the immediate absence of his heat and support when he pried away. He whispered again in her ear. “Your name is Julie. I’m Dean. And, if you can’t remember where your bedroom is soon, I’m fucking you right here, right now, on this rug.”

Her eyes jolted open at the announcement.

“I can’t wait any longer, Jules. You’re the one that said we deserve some good times, remember?” He licked a trail from her ear, along her jawline and captured her mouth in a searing kiss. Both arms enveloped her in warmth and a feeling of security. The juxtaposition of Dean’s restraining actions and passionate displays was making her head spin. “Getting to know you, it’s only making me want you more.” He was confessing again, leaning into her back.

Julie tried in vain to quiet the beating of her heart. She listened and focused on the beauty of him. His eyes closed and face bathed in an amber glow. Dean radiated light and heat like a fallen angel. Her fingers wrapped around as much of his forearms clutching over her chest as they could. She squeezed at the skin.

His eyes blinked open slow. He returned, present with her again. Green eyes captured the incandescence and flamed like molten gold. He swallowed and whispered, “You make me want to believe I deserve a good thing.” Dean swooped in. His lips and tongue caressed any part of her he could reach. The action became frenzied. His erection grew harder.

_He really is going to fuck me on this rug if I don’t…_ She broke from his lips and nodded to the closed door to their right. “There.” He freed her long enough from the bear hug so she could get two steps ahead of him. That was the only head start she was allowed. By the time her hand was on the knob, he was pressed against her back again. His large hand covered and turned with hers to open the door.

Their bodies spilled clumsily over each other into the dark bedroom. His hands spun her around so his mouth could zero in on hers again with laser precision. After what Julie could only describe as some fucking hot tonsil hockey, he whispered, “I need to see what I’m going to do to every inch of this body.” His forehead bent down and rested against hers.

“Jesus, Dean.” It was a useless attempt, but she tried to get a hold of her breathing.

He cupped her face, licked her lips and asked, “How do you want it, sweetheart? Mood lighting or porn spotlight?” She felt his grin against her chin. “Your call... but I gotta see you.”

He groaned when she pulled away from his grasp. Feeling her way through the familiar room she tapped on a lamp on the closest nightstand. If she turned around to look at him, she knew he’d pounce. She hastened to the other side of the bed and tapped on the matching lamp.

“Mood lighting.” He confirmed with a nod. The queen bed draped in a pale blue comforter served as a temporary barrier. His fingers trailed over the puffy fabric. “Meet me halfway?” He smiled, not breaking his stare, and strolled along the edge toward the foot of the bed.

She walked without hesitation to his waiting figure. He reached out and pulled her into his embrace. Fingers tangled into her wavy hair. The tips massaged her scalp. She leaned into his strokes like a contented cat.

“So pretty.” His swollen, pink lips curled into a halfhearted smile. “There’s so much I should tell you first, Julie.” He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding her gaze up to meet his.

She shook her head. “Only thing you need to tell me is that you like to talk a lot during sex, hot stuff.”

He chuckled. “You like it when a guy talks dirty?”

“I know I’ll like it when _you_ talk dirty.” She leaned up and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. The lip was plump and slick. She released it with a soft slurp. He moaned, long and deep. Her inner walls constricted, commanded by his sound. “God. I think you could make me cum just from all the little noises you make.”

“Hm.” He licked his bottom lip. “We can give that a try another time. But, I need to feel you cum tonight.” His hands clutched at her lower back, then grabbed two handfuls of her ass and squeezed. He grinned. “Will you get nice and loud for me? What kinda reaction can I expect?”

“Depends on what you plan on doing. We talkin’ chick flick romance, like the back seat of the car in Titanic, or the taco scene in Cabana Nights?”

His eyes popped open. “Did you seriously just reference Casa Erotica?” The boyish grin returned, laced with intense lust. “Oh, you’re gonna be sooo much fun.” Julie grinned and peppered the side of his neck with kisses. Her hands tunneled between the multiple shirt layers and tried in vain to pull his overshirt down those massive shoulders. “Let me.” He offered upon hearing her gasp in frustration. There was some shuffling and maneuvering of hands and arms. A swish of fabric later and she smiled at the reveal of only the white t-shirt covering his chest. His shoulders and arms were super defined, well-muscled, but not turbo charged into steroid territory. “My turn.” His hands grabbed the hem of her top and pulled it up and over her head and tossed it on a nearby chair. She grinned as his breath snatched. “Sexy.” His fingers ran down her neck and rested on the swell of a breast in a push up bra covered in black lace.

“I thought you’d like it.”

“So much.” He sat on the edge of the bed, spread his bowlegs wide and pulled her standing frame between the empty spot between them. “Tell me.” Hands stroked up and down her back. His mouth bathed her cleavage in hot breath as he stared up. “What do you like? Besides dirty talk?”

She bit her lip. “What happened to needing to fuck me right now?”

“We’re here. No turning back now. Might as well file a couple things away for future reference.”

She whispered, “I like your mouth.”

His grin turned cocky. “Have you thought about what my mouth could do to you?” A light kiss placed on her left breast made her shiver. The fact that he continued to gaze up at her while he licked the flesh alongside the bra cup only made it worse. His hands rounded her shoulders and pulled at the straps, so they draped over her biceps. “Cause I have. I told you it was getting to be a problem, all those thoughts I was having about you.” He tugged the lacey cup material down with his teeth. His nose brushed against her nipple first, circling it. She groaned when his lips sucked the taut nub. On instinct, she arched her back into his hungry mouth. More happy, content moans rose up from Dean’s throat and vibrated against her skin. Her head tipped backward as he suckled, then used his tongue and teeth. He let the tit pop out long enough so he could unclasp her bra and remove it before working the other. “Hm.” He got his hands into the kneading. “Like me sucking your tits?”

_Fuck. The voice and the face and the body and the skills of this man._ Her mouth opened. She stuttered out an, “uh-huh,” and nodded up at the ceiling.

“You’ve got beautiful nipples.” He took each one between his fingers and twisted lightly, then pushed her breasts together so he had them within easy reach. Back and forth he went, licking and sucking, creating the most delicious noises. “Really sensitive? Bet you’ve cum from just this before, haven’t you?”

She nodded again, feeling the heat flood through her body.

“Goddamn.” He mumbled into her cleavage. “Let me know how good this feels. Wanna hear you, baby.”

Her face fell forward along with tendrils of hair, curtaining her expression. Cheeks burned hotter and redder than the rest of her skin. Her eyelids pressed tight shut. She bit her lip, flustered. She felt one of Dean’s hands skirt up over her bare skin to sweep the strands she hid behind, away from her face.

The deep voice was softer, encouraging now. “Let me hear what you’re thinking. All of it. It’s okay.” His chin dipped and bobbed against her skin as he spoke. “I’ve got you.” A hand trailed down her arm until his fingers threaded through her own and clasped tight. “You’re safe with me, Jules.”

_Safe._ She gasped at the reassurance. Once open, her eyes inspected him. He looked so enamored. She became empowered by the lusty green eyes and parted mouth anticipating her declaration. The skin around his lips was red from all his hard work. The entire scene filled her with a nasty sense of confidence. Her free hand fingered through his hair. “Feels so good, your mouth all over my tits.” The confession she released was low and gritty in tone. He licked his lips and smiled in pride. “Suck them. Hard.” The voice uttering the directive didn’t even sound like her own.

A slight raise of one of Dean’s brows and Julie tugging at his hair preceded his grunt in obligation. He didn’t hold back on either request, his mouth a vacuum, engulfing as much of her as possible. His cheeks hollowed out. The expertise of his tongue showed no mercy either, circling the nipple in the warmth and wet until it was raw and super sensitive. And he stared at her the whole time under heavy lids, eyes drunk with bliss, while she moaned and praised. “Yeah, Dean. Feels so good.”

He eased off eventually and came up for air, massaging her back. “Sweet and filthy all rolled into one, huh?” His fingers pulled her hair back past her shoulders again. “Can I fuck you now?”

Julie nodded, pushed to the edge of an orgasmic cliff. Her body tingled. “Yes, please.”

He laughed, rose, and grabbed at the hem of his t-shirt, readying to pull it up and over his head. He stopped to nod. “Strip, sweetheart. And, get on the bed.”

“Only fair if you take that off first.” She heaved, her bare breasts rising as she tried to catch her breath.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Her eyes deep in concentration and waiting for the physical perfection she was about to witness, all of her other senses got in a queue. It took a few seconds for her to notice the change in Dean’s expression. He stiffened and not in a sexual way. Arms fell to his side in a defensive posture. Her hearing shot back to the front of the line. “Is that your doorbell?” he asked.

“W-what?” She heard it the second time. _Shit._ “Yeah.”

Dean stared at his wristwatch. “It’s ten o’clock.” His hands gripped and released. “What the hell?”

The doorbell rang again with urgency. A quick three tap press this time. “I have no idea.”

He darted over to the chair to toss the discarded shirt in her general direction. She hurried to pull it on over her chest. He found his checkered shirt and twirled it over his head and slid his arms into the sleeves. “Come on.” He extended a hand out. She grabbed it and they headed out of the bedroom to the landing.

“Dean…” she started. Her arousal mingled with uncertainty and fear at the unexpected disturbance. Dean’s overreaction to whoever was at the door was unsettling as well. It was like a switch had been flipped in his head.

A forceful gaze silenced her, he raised a finger to his lips, and then peeked over the rails down to the first floor. He motioned with a nod to the steps. “We go down slow, not a lot of noise.”

At the bottom step he raised a hand, in what appeared to be a military gesture, and whispered, “You stay far behind me, okay, when I open the door?” He shook his head. “Should have brought my gun with me.”

“On our date?” She asked in a hush, partly in jest. The look on his face had turned stoic and serious in a way she had yet to see. She gulped and then posited, “It’s probably nothing.” The sound of the doorbell clanged over them, loud and obnoxious, and she jumped.

A male voice attached to the shadows shifting over the front door glass called from the outside. “Hello?”

Dean’s posture slackened. His shoulders dropped. He sighed. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

He rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, shaking his head at Julie apologetically. “It’s uh, it’s a friend of mine.”

Julie felt her brows bunch together. “A friend?”

“Yeah. I’ll be right back, give me a minute? I’ll go outside and talk to him. It’s probably nothing, but…”

She crossed her arms over her chest with a heightened awareness she was braless. “It’s alright, you can invite him in.”

He sighed again. “Sure?”

“Sure.”

When Dean opened the door, a man with a confused stare peered into the doorway. “Dean.” Deep lines etched into his forehead, almost as deep as his voice. “I’ve been calling.” He walked into the entryway without being asked inside. He stopped and stood quite close to Dean, their noses almost about to greet each other with an Eskimo kiss.

Dean nodded in a slight gesture, leaning back a bit. “Hi, Cas. I must’ve left my phone in the car.” Realization passed over his face. “And, you saw my car in this driveway…”

“We have to talk.” Cas, a bit shorter in stature, narrowed his eyes at Dean and inhaled. His stare worked over Dean’s frame, up, down, then up again. He cocked his head in Julie’s direction. “I’m interrupting something.” The monotone voice made it impossible to discern if he was making a statement or asking a question. He wore what looked like some sort of retail uniform. A crooked, bright yellow name tag rested on the left lapel of a royal blue vest. Tight tan pants gave him a hipster look.

Dean scratched the back of his neck and closed the door. “Cas. This is Julie. This is _her_ house.”

Julie attempted a smile at the quirky man. _I thought my social skills were bad._ “Hi.” She lifted a hand up in a greeting, keeping her arms crossed.

“Hello.” Cas nodded and attempted to step over closer. Dean hindered his movement with a clasp on his shoulder.

“What’s going on, Cas?”

“It’s Friday night. We have our poker game every Friday when you aren’t out on a case.” He stated the details with a blank expression. “I sensed you were in the area. When I got done with my shift, I came to your house but you weren’t there. I called and you didn’t answer.” His gaze ran up and down Julie’s figure. She gulped. “I found your car. Here.” His eyebrows raised a bit as he looked back to Dean. A hint of a grin danced on his lips. “Are you two… playing poker?”

Julie pursed her lips and quashed a grin. Knowing the blush was forming, she stared down at the floor. Dean cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Ah, no.”

“Hm.” Cas added.

“I’m sorry I forgot to tell you that I had plans tonight.” Dean offered.

“It’s alright. I was concerned.”

The three of them stood in awkward silence.

“Can I get you something to drink, Cas?” Julie cursed internally at her inability to be impolite.

Dean’s eyes widened.

Cas produced a genuine smile at the question. “I’m fine. Thank you.” He stepped quick in front of her before Dean had a chance to stop him. _Personal space, dude._ The proximity gave her the opportunity to take in the sky blue of his eyes. _If he wasn’t so odd, he’d be quite attractive._ “Dean hasn’t mentioned you.” He turned back to Dean. “Why haven’t you mentioned Julie?”

Eyes closed and his head hung low, Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was trying to avoid something like _this_ from happening, Cas.”

“Hm.” Cas nodded, processing. “Are you on a date?” The question was directed at Julie now.

“Yes.” Julie dragged out the word and caught Dean smiling at her, shrugging.

He mouthed _I’m so sorry._

“I’m interrupting.” He spun on his heels and faced Dean. “We do need to talk, though, Dean. It’s about Jack.”

Dean’s animated apology faded. “Is he alright?”

“Yes. I’m just having some... difficulties.”

“Can it wait?” Dean mumbled the ask, his eyes hopeful and gesturing towards Julie.

Even though Julie understood the innuendo and the request Dean asked of his friend, the obtuse individual did not. “No, not really. I’ve already put off my need to discuss this. I was expecting to talk to you during our poker game tonight.”

Julie waved at Dean over Cas’s shoulder and tried her best to give him an understanding nod.

Dean sighed. “Alright. Why don’t you head back to my house? I’m just going to say goodnight to Julie.”

Cas nodded at Julie. “Nice meeting you.” He marched in his friend’s direction. Dean opened the door in time, so he didn’t have to slow the pace. Cas stepped down, turned a sharp ninety degrees like a soldier, and disappeared from their view down the path.

Dean clicked the door closed and shrugged. “I’m sorry about all this.”

Julie grinned. Her arms relaxed to her sides and she motioned to the couch behind her. “We could extend that goodnight to include a few minutes of you fucking me?”

Dean chuckled loud, letting his whole body in on the joke. He settled down and strolled over to Julie. “We could.” He glanced over her frame. His hands reached out and pulled her into his space by the curve of her hips. “Certainly wouldn’t take me long to be ready for that task.” He bent down and kissed her forehead. “But then I’d want to stay.”

Her hands rested on his shoulders. “How long have you known Cas?”

“Way too long.” Dean stared into her eyes. “He’s like family.”

She nodded. “And, Jack is…?”

“Cas’s son.” He kissed her lips. She sighed, relishing the touch and the feeling of want behind it. He pulled away from the kiss. Their body weight shifted side to side together in a slight, silent tempo that only they could hear. “At that age, I guess, where he doesn’t want to listen to his old man. Lots of rebelling.”

“So, Cas comes to the rebel for advice?” Julie pushed.

“I was not the rebel in the family. Good little soldier for my dad.” They stayed like that for a while, staring and swaying. Dean shook himself out of whatever thoughts were firing in that minefield of his brain. “I should go, or he’ll just come back again.”

Julie giggled. “He’s interesting.”

“He’s… special.” Dean left the Cas discussion at that. He stepped back to hunch down, so he was at Julie’s eyeline. “But you, sweetheart. Damn if you aren’t turning out to be full of pleasant surprises.” He grinned. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“I hope so.” She smiled.

“More in store, right?” His eyebrows cocked up.

“God, there better be.”

He smiled and pecked her lips, not giving her time to react and kiss him back. He spun and extended an arm behind him, which she clasped onto with both hands. As he pulled them to the door, she pulled back like a tug of war. It was no contest, though. He reached the door in a confident stroll and lifted his jacket off the coat hook with his free hand. “I’ll check in with you in the morning.”

“Okay.”

He let himself out only to turn at the sound of her following him outside. He laughed. “What are you doing?”

“Walking you to your car.” She was working the innocent angle for all she could.

“But then I’ll just have to walk you back to your door.” He stated. His hands rested on her shoulders; blazer draped over a thick forearm. “Night.”

Julie frowned.

Dean’s expression crumbled into exasperation. “Don’t do that. I just want to fuck that frown upside down.” He gave her a cheesy grin.

She laughed and tapped the side of her head. “I’ll have to file that one away for future reference.”

He backed down the path, facing her, and pointed with intent at her figure. “Hey, you’re the one that mentioned the taco scene from Cabana Nights. We’re totally doing that one day!” He gave her a wave. When he reached Baby and bounded down the steps, Julie watched dumbstruck as he launched his body off the ground. The forty-three-year-old used the momentum to slide along the car’s hood on his perfect ass and land solid and steady on his feet onto the driver’s side. He gave himself props with a fist pump and grinned. “Skills.” He called out in the dark, “Night, Jules.”

The cool evening air dried Julie’s open mouth. Dean started up the car and backed down the drive. He revved up the engine once out in the street, extended her a wave and that killer smile, along with three taps of his horn. “Get inside!” he ordered.

Her feet moved as commanded. When the door shut, she heard him peel out and wake up the entire neighborhood for the quarter block drive back to his house. Tingles of arousal crept along her skin over all the places his hands and mouth had touched. A head to toe shiver worked its way through her body. She leaned against the door for support, grinning, thrilled and exhilarated. _I’m going to get fucked, good and proper, by a goddamn Duke of Hazzard._


	8. Chapter 8

Dean sipped slow at the steaming black coffee he’d picked up on his way to Cas’s house. _Way too fuckin’ early._ A dude in his sixties, walking a yippy Yorkshire, squinted hard at Dean biding time in Baby outside the tiny two-bedroom cottage belonging to Castiel Novak. Tempted to give him the middle finger, Dean instead opted for a two-finger friendly salute with a grin. The elder man continued down the sidewalk, his reflection eventually caught by Dean in the rear view mirror. He passed behind the Impala, stopped right at the tailpipe, and took a mental note of the license plate.

“Come on, man.” Dean mumbled to himself. “I can only handle so much stupid this early.” The POS dog saved its owner, pulling him across the street and yapping the whole damn way.

He yawned and leaned back in his seat. The time on his watch confirmed it was way too early to be up and out of the house on a Saturday morning. Especially when he wasn’t on a job. Especially when, if Cas hadn’t shown up, he’d probably be in Julie’s bed sleeping. He grinned. _Probably not sleeping._

No, Dean was pretty sure he would have woken Julie up very early to do more of what he wished they’d done last night. When he’d gotten back to his house after saying goodbye, he’d attempted to explain the term cockblocking to Cas. Cas had sat on the couch with perfect posture. He listened, as he always did when Dean explained something, with that dazed and confused expression. Dean paced back and forth in a state of irritability and arousal. “Do you know how long it’s been, Cas, since I’ve had a piece of ass?”

“I believe you’ve gotten pieces of ass more recently than I have, Dean. My last sexual encounter was with the reaper, April.” Cas had experienced much in his human form, but he still felt like an innocent, humorless child to Dean in moments like this.

“Piece of…” Dean shook his head. “Nevermind. Look, it’s been a long fuckin’ time, okay?”

Cas stared at the cushion between his open legs, processing. “My intrusion prevented you from reaching orgasm with Julie.” He stared back at Dean with a head tilt and puppy dog eyes. “I am sorry.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Whatever.”

Cas had then gone on about the troubles he was having with Jack. Dean took it all in and promised he’d come over bright and early the next morning to try and talk to the kid. Cas still looked perplexed as Dean scooted him out of the house, explaining they wouldn’t be playing cards that night.

The grass in front of Cas’s house was drenched in dew. A thin film of grey fog hung low in the air. Dean sipped hard and long at the coffee. He let the strong brew settle on his tongue and inhaled the dark roast aroma he craved. He needed the caffeine to do its job this morning. He’d only clocked a couple hours of sleep. It was nothing new. But he could usually catch up on the insomnia in the late morning when he was home. _Not today._ There were things on his agenda after he took care of this unpleasant family business. They would require way more energy than what he currently had to expend with Jack and Cas.

_Julie is number one on my to do list. The other items being all the things I want to do to Julie._

His cock had begged for attention all night and morning. Even now, sitting in the driver’s seat, he could feel his semi press with insistence against the denim. But he’d refrained. It wasn’t like he hadn’t beat off to thoughts of Julie before. It had become a daily, sometimes multiple times a day, occurrence since that first night after he tasted her cobbler. He’d dropped the phone immediately after the text conversation had ended, letting her know how good her sweet treat had been, and jerked off imagining how sweet _she_ tasted.

After getting a hint of what she tasted like last night, he was hell bent on having her wrapped around him the next time he came. He leaned back in his seat and tilted the rearview mirror to confirm he had that cheesy ass grin on his face from his thoughts of her. _This is bad._ The dissatisfaction of how Julie was getting under his skin battled with the want to experience this other feeling fully. _You’re just gonna fuck it up. Can’t do normal. Tried it once and it didn’t stick. And, she’s too sweet to hurt._

Lisa had been sweet, too. But Lisa had a street-smart edge that made her a kickass single mom long before Dean came into the picture. Plus, Lisa and Ben had the benefit of having their minds erased - _thanks, Cas_ \- of Dean’s existence after he’d put their lives in danger from being a part of his. If Dean tried the experiment again with Julie, there’d be no “Men in Black” take-it-back wipe. The once angel, now human, had lost his power after the final battle that had righted this world back on its axis two years ago. Jack was all human now, too.

The lack of celestial backup had been the hardest adjustment after over a decade of relying on it as a fail-safe. Dean could only imagine how it was for Cas. They’d had a few heart to hearts over whiskey, which now knocked Cas on his ass after one shot. The brother from another father had been to the mat for him and Sam more times than Dean could count. Helping save the world and giving up everything that made him special dropped Cas into a world of trivial every day that he would never snap out of. Not until he died. Which was another mindfuck for Cas. After centuries, he would die. There would be a finality to all of it. _But, I’ll have my own version of heaven to look forward too, Dean. That’s something. I won’t be swallowed up by the empty and cease to be. My soul will be at peace._ Dean had clapped his friend’s shoulder as he cried, realizing the same would happen to Jack. Someday.

_After two years of keeping your nose as far out of normal as possible, you’ve got to go and mess with this sweet woman._

Dean tilted his head and started that inner debate he’d done too many times lately. _To be fair, she started sniffing around me first._

_Get off your high horse, asshole. You’ve been sniffed around dozens of times before and steered clear. You’re lonely and she’s so far from what you deserve that you’re curious. You wanna see if you can make something stick. Like Sammy has with Eileen._

_Sammy’s moved on and is trying to build a life. Why shouldn’t I?_

_Because you’re a speeding train with non-existent brakes heading straight towards the edge of a cliff, that’s why. Fucking train wreck on bowlegs._

The phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out. Julie was calling. It was 7:30 am. The emotional lashing removed from his psyche, swiped away with Baby’s windshield wipers. It was replaced by that feeling she’d been stirring up within him more lately. It was more than arousal. He denied himself to define it. If he did, it might disappear.

He accepted the call on the fourth ring while clearing his throat. “Well, good morning, beautiful.”

“Hey, Dean.” Her voice was lighter this morning, more like the tone he was used to hearing. Not that he at all minded the lower, commanding pitch of the indecent woman he got a preview of last night. _Shit._ His erection was growing. He shifted in his seat.

“Couldn’t wait for me to check in first, huh?”

She laughed. “Guess not. I didn’t see your car when I got up this morning. Things okay?”

“Yeah. Things are good.” He grinned and tapped a button on his phone.

“Are you trying to FaceTime me?”

“Sounds dirty.”

She laughed again. “Everything sounds dirty to you.” She sighed trying to sound done with him, but he knew she wasn’t. “Hold on.” He held the phone back. His screen only provided a quick preview of his own state. Bags under his eyes and unshaven, he didn’t look as put together as the night before.

The screen switched to a view of Julie. Her brown hair was up in a bun. The hair looked freshly washed as did the rest of her enticing olive colored skin. _When I make her blush it’s got splotches of cotton candy pink all over it._ He appreciated the slope and curve of her neck. Big, brown almond-shaped eyes stared him down, studying him, from behind glasses. He’d put her in the role of hot librarian in a few of his release sessions. He particularly liked the one where she was bent over a desk and he was fucking her from behind hard enough to knock books off nearby shelves. He had a sneaking suspicion she’d be up for that kind of roleplaying. He really liked her in those tight button-up shirts she wore to work a lot.

Her voice brought him out of his erotic daydreaming. “You’re lucky I’m presentable. Or, I would have denied you.” She quipped. There it was, that little hint of dominance. It came out on occasion and thrilled him with the facets and possibilities of this seemingly normal, but very interesting, woman. “Where are you?”

“Outside Cas’s house.”

“You’re over Cas’s already?”

“Yeah. He asked if I’d talk to the kid. I had to get here early.” She sipped at her large mug of coffee and sat at her kitchen table. “Jack’s apparently planning a trip to visit a girl he met online. Was going to buy a plane ticket and leave today.”

Julie’s already big eyes widened farther. “Wow. When you say kid…”

Dean scratched at the stubble. “He’s twenty. Kid to me. Plus, Jack’s also…” He opened his mouth to attempt a description but shook his head instead.

Julie grinned. “Special?”

Dean nodded. “Must be hereditary.” _Or a common “I was once an angel and I’m trying to figure out how to be human” thing. Fuck my life. How would this woman ever understand and be okay with even an ounce of this insanity?_

“Still there? I think you froze.”

Dean had gone into his thoughts long enough for Julie to think the connection had been lost. “I’m here.” He cleared his throat. “It’s been tough. Cas tried to shelter him from a lot of things. Can’t control him anymore.”

Julie shrugged. “Well, no, of course not. He’s his own person. He’s going to have to make mistakes and learn from them.”

“Yeah. This might end up being more of an intervention for Cas, I think.”

She gave him a slight smile. “I hope things go well.”

“Thanks.” His mouth perked up. “What are you doing later?”

Julie grinned. “Wasn’t planning on much today. Run some errands after breakfast. Lazy Saturday.”

“Can I come by?”

Her eyes lit up. “Of course. But you might want to rest up first. You look tired.”

He puckered his lips together in thought before he asked, “are you planning to wear me out?”

She nodded. “Lots of pent up frustration I need to get out.”

His tongue swiped over his top lip. “Can’t wait.”

That produced a giggle and shake of her head. “Bye, Dean.” She waved a few fingers in front of her face.

“Bye, Jules.” She ended the call first. He didn’t think he would have been able to. He much rather preferred hiding in his car, staring at that pretty face, than having to go and do something even close to parenting with Jack. _Hell, I’ll be parenting Cas today, too._

He groaned along with the hinges of Baby’s driver side door as he got out.

*

Dean drove back into his neighborhood and past Julie’s house around two o’clock. Her little blue compact wasn’t under the carport. _Damn toy car._ He shook his head. _At least it’s a Chevy._

Dean had taken a sensible approach with Jack. When he got down to the nuts and bolts of it all, the kid was bored and looking for an adventure. And horny as hell. Something Dean could easily relate to at that particular moment. It took some time, but Dean convinced him to save up his earnings from his upcoming summer job. If things were still hot and heavy long distance with this girl, he should take a trip to see her in Texas during Winter break. For now, Dean enlightened him to the beauty and intricacies of sexting and phone sex. Jack was all smiles by the time Dean had left Cas’s house.

Once Dean pulled into his own driveway, he texted Julie. _Just got home. Going to pass out. Call when you get home. I’ll jump the fence and be right over._ He smirked, happy with the blend of eagerness and cheese in his composition. A decision to shower before his nap set him back fifteen minutes. The warm water relaxed, and the steam released the residual alcohol from his pores. Sleep was merciful and came as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He stirred and was half-woken up to Wes’s voice drifting in from his open bedroom window. A pillow was about to be used to muffle the disruption when he identified another voice and cocked his head to listen.

_Brigida? What the hell is she doing here?_ Dean moaned. _Ugh, am I gonna get cockblocked by the feisty little Italian mother, too?_

“It’s not like Giulia. I told her to come by and pick up some sausage and peppers I made. She said she’d be by around 11:00. And, now, she’s not picking up her phone. It doesn’t even ring, Wes. Just goes to that voicemail. And the map thingy says she’s here still. What does that mean?”

Wes mumbled something Dean couldn’t quite make out. He reached for his phone on the nightstand and checked the screen. No notifications appeared. He tapped his messages to make sure he hadn’t missed a reply from Julie. _Nothing._ His lips pursed. He tried to call her. _Straight to voicemail._ His heart sped up when he noticed the time. _Six o’clock._

Dean shot up in bed, already dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He pulled on some sneakers and hurried out to the backyard.

Brigida stood near the divide between Julie and Wes’s backyard. A large aluminum tray rested on her forearms and her purse dangled at the elbow. Wes was at his grill down near the edge of his own driveway. She and Wes both turned to Dean at his approach toward the fence line.

“Dean-ah. Have you seen Giulia today?” There was no smile on her face in the greeting. The little lady was on a mission.

“I haven’t, Brigida.” His hands gripped the fence. “Everything alright?”

She shook her head. Her mouth opened and shut. “I- it’s not like her.” Her lips began to quiver.

_Aw, hell._ Dean jumped over the fence and rushed to Brigida. He pulled one of the patio chairs close to her short, stocky frame. Easing her to sit, he removed the warm tray from her grip and placed it on the table.

Wes came to her side with a pair of greasy tongs in hand. “I’m sure it’s nothing and Julie’s alright, Mamma.” Wes bumbled out the soothing statement. A stale stench of alcohol and pot emanated from the hippie.

Dean knelt to talk to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Did you knock on her door, ring the doorbell, Brigida?”

She nodded.

He pressed further. “Don’t you have a key? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you let yourself in to check on her.”

“Wes told me he saw her leave earlier. And, I didn’t want to go in there by myself.” Her eyes darted to Wes and back to Dean. She leaned in and tried her best to whisper. “I thought, if she was home, she might be busy and didn’t want to walk in on… well, now that I know you were at your house and alone…”

Dean waited for more clarification. Someone else might have missed the tiniest of smiles on her aging lips. But not Dean. “When I talked to her this morning, she said she might be seeing you later. Told me she had a nice time on your date last night.”

Wes tapped his tongs together at that bit of information. Dean smiled. Warmth shot over his cheeks. “Ah. Well, when I got home this afternoon her car wasn’t here.”

“When was that?” Brigida asked.

“About two.”

“Should we call the police?” Brigida pulled her phone out of her purse.

Dean shook his head. “Police won’t do anything. They’ll say it’s only been a few hours, really, since anyone’s heard…”

“It’s not like her.” Brigida repeated. “Something’s wrong.”

Dean nodded and patted her shoulder again. He’d only known Julie for a few weeks but even he knew something wasn’t right. From their texts and conversations, he’d found out a lot about the relationship she had with her mother. They were extraordinarily close. Their communications were daily.

Brigida wouldn’t be left waiting around without an explanation. Julie would have known it would result in a car ride over to check to see what happened. It made no difference that her adult daughter was competent and independent. Even if there was some possible hanky panky going on with Dean, Brigida made it abundantly clear she’d knock on doors and ring doorbells and wait in a backyard until her daughter told her everything was fine. This woman, who immigrated from Italy with no more than an elementary school education, was a fierce protector who would not be ignored. Dean made a mental note to not get on her bad side.

But first, they had to find Julie.

“I saw Julie leave around ten. I was working on the garden.” Wes piped in.

By now, Samuel had come out of the house and wandered over to the discussion. “What’s wrong?”

“Julie’s missing.” Wes stated.

“Missing?” Samuel’s eyes bugged out in alarm.

Dean stood up, his hand still on Brigida’s shoulder. He could feel her beginning to shake. “She’s not missing.” He attempted to defuse the escalation and nodded down to Brigida. “We’re just trying to figure out what might be keeping her out this long. She hasn’t been in contact with anyone.”

Samuel nodded back at Dean and placed a hand on Wes’s shoulder as well. Dean knew Samuel would try to redirect his partner with the phrasing of his words. “She did leave around ten. I was taking care of the flower beds out front.” Samuel snapped a finger. “She talked to that woman passing out those flyers, Wes.”

“Flyers?”

Samuel clarified. “Missing dog. She came by our porch and asked if we’d keep an eye out, right before she went over to Julie’s.”

“Pretty chocolate lab.” The expression on Wes’s face about the dog matched Brigida’s, thinking about Julie. “Where’s that flyer?” Wes slipped from under Samuel’s grip and went towards the direction of the grill. _Man needs a leash._ Dean shook his head.

Samuel sighed. “Julie seemed to know her. They talked for a few minutes at the end of her driveway. I’d gone back into the house for something. I saw Julie’s car driving up the lane when I came back out.”

“But, you’ve never seen that woman before?”

Samuel shook his head.

Wes shot back with the flyer and handed it to Dean. Aside from a picture and the name of the dog, there was only a number to call if someone could provide information. Dean turned the paper over but there was nothing on the back. A detail about Wes and Samuel’s house popped into his head. “You guys have one of those doorbell cameras, don’t you?”

Samuel smiled. “Yep.” He pulled out his phone, already going into the app to pull up the time in question.

“How about I get you something to eat, Mamma?” Wes asked Brigida.

She waved a hand in silence.

“Here it is.” Samuel passed his phone over to Dean.

He squinted at the video, impressed with the image’s clarity. His eyes widened in recognition. “Son of a bitch.”

“What?” Brigida, Wes, and Samuel asked in unison.

“I’ve seen Cocoa’s owner before. Last night, actually. At the restaurant we went to. She did know Julie.” Dean’s mind started putting puzzle pieces together.

“Maybe she’ll know where she was going.” Brigida exclaimed.

Dean raised a finger and pulled out his phone. He copied the number from the flyer into his keypad and dialed. His mouth pursed when it went straight to voicemail and he listened to the generic robot voice repeating the number. He waited for the beep. "Hi, I've got some info on your lost dog, Cocoa. You can reach me at the following number." After leaving his cell contact he hung up. He turned to Brigida. "I'll see what I can get out of her when she calls back."

"But, she'll be all hopeful about Cocoa," Wes began.

“What restaurant?” Brigida stood up. “We should go over there and talk to her.”

Dean nodded with caution. “Absolutely, Brigida. I’m going to go and do that right now.” He forced her to stare at him. “You’re going to stay here, with Wes and Samuel, in case Julie comes back home. Alright? I promise, I’ll let you know if I find out anything. With your permission, can I go into Julie's house with you and take a quick look around before I head out?”

“Of course.” She patted his cheek. “Such a good man.” She fished the key out of her purse, ready to walk up to the sliding door.

He shot Brigida a smile, attempting to hide his own worry. “Let’s get you inside so you can wait for your daughter to come home.”

*

Dean had inspected every room in Julie’s home. His inner radar picked up nothing weird or unusual. He wished he had his EMF meter with him. _Next time I’m here I’ll do a proper sweep for her. When Julie’s back. Just to make sure she won’t have an unruly specter to contend with after this is over. And she’s back._

All he deduced was proof of a life being unpacked, reorganized, and put back together again. He’d stolen a few seconds in her office to stare at the picture of a teenage Julie with her awkward prom date. In her bedroom, he sniffed at the perfume bottle holding the scent she’d worn last night. Though nothing was amiss, the tangible remnants of her existence filled Dean with dread. _Here. Then gone. In an instant._ So many people in his life had disappeared like that. _Not Julie, too._

He refused to rile up Julie’s mother with any more fear than she was already producing. She gave him an unexpected, long, and strong hug for a woman of her diminutive stature. “Find her, please.” He gave her a slight smile and rushed out into the backyard only to freeze on the lawn, unsure of his next step.

Possible ways to track her down ticked through Dean’s head. _I could call in that favor._

A scroll through his phone’s contacts skidded to a stop. “Detective Tullman.” The thick southern accent answered.

“Marty. Dean Winchester.”

“Ah, Dean.” Dean had heard that particular phrase with that hesitant inflection countless times by a select group of people. These individuals crossed paths with Dean in his _other_ line of work. Everything they knew of the world had been upended in an instant; usually the instant when Dean showed up on their doorstep. An encounter pulled them into the nastiness that lived under the translucent veil of normality.

“What can I do ya for? Aren’t in a jail cell sleepin’ off a bender, are ya?” The detective’s tone changed as Dean knew it would. What had started out a year back as a collaborative and mutually beneficial meeting on a standard bail enforcement job escalated into something much worse. Marty called Dean to relay his skip had been found; shot by a security guard after a bank robbery attempt in Newark. He was in an ambulance headed to the trauma center at the nearest hospital. His accomplice had escaped and was on the loose.

Only problem was, Dean was staring at his skip in a backyard that belonged to an apparent girlfriend. Was he sure they had the right guy? Dean sent Marty a picture of the person he was watching. The detective high-tailed it to the house a mile from the crime scene. The fucking thing shed its skin in the tiny yard while he and Marty looked on in bewilderment over the top of the wooden fence.

A chase ensued near abandoned train tracks. Marty bum rushed it to the ground but got overpowered. The monster pulled a knife from its boot and raised it over its head. Sunshine glinted off the blade as it readied to sink the tip into the detective’s chest. Dean shot the knife out of its grip. He followed by firing two silver bullets into its heart. What he was pretty certain was the dead body of a shapeshifter slumped on top of Marty. 

Thoughts and details came together in Marty’s head once the shock wore off. The body in front of him was the other bank robber. He, or it, had known the skip for a while and were low level partners in crime. Dean suggested the shifter may have had a hard on for the other guy’s girl, who thankfully wasn’t home. Most monsters also battled human vices. Lust and greed were a common denominator.

The detective came up with a story to cover their combined asses. They both spent a couple hours at the shootout location rehashing it over and over. Dean watched Marty hold his shit together quite well with a ton of law enforcement, CSI, and emergency personnel swarming like bees for evidence and details.

Dean and Marty bonded over cold beers at the closest bar. Dean found out Marty had been deployed to Iraq back in 2003. He’d been on the frontline of war for two years. He was a reliable, steadfast soldier. Nervous before a battle, but willing to put his life on the line for the greater good. They had a lot of commonality when it came to bloodshed. The nightmares that collided and crept into their days without warning simply involved different enemies.

“I need some help.”

Marty chuckled. “Ain’t gonna cost me my badge is it? I know I owe you my life, but I still got a wife and kids to feed.”

“Shouldn’t. Friend’s gone missing. It’s only been half a day, but it’s not adding up.”

“Local friend?”

“Yeah. Pike Creek.”

“Whaddya got for me?”

He smiled and rattled off Julie’s full name and the license plate he’d committed to memory. “Drives a blue, compact Chevy,” He added. “Five foot five. Long brown hair, probably in a ponytail, brown eyes, wears glasses. Italian, if that helps.”

“She cute?” Marty asked.

“Very.”

“Alrighty, I’ll have some guys keep an eye out in the area.”

“I’m gonna do my own investigating. Appreciate it, man. Thanks.”

“Thank me if I find ya somethin’.” He hung up.

Samuel popped into Dean’s view from under Julie’s covered patio. “What are you going to do when you get to the restaurant?” The balding man folded up his glasses and hung them from the collar of his t-shirt. Dean had learned from interactions over the past two years that Samuel was sharp and much harder to misdirect than Wes.

“Just ask this woman some questions.” Dean began his cut through their backyard to shorten the walk back to the house. He wasn’t keen on hopping the fence again.

Samuel kept pace with his quick steps. “Why would she answer any of your questions?”

“She saw me with Julie last night. I’m not some random stalker.” He tapped Samuel’s elbow. “Don’t you worry. I have some other tricks up my sleeve.”

“I’m sure you do.” His tone was hopeful.

_Are you really flirting with me, dude? Now?_ “Listen, Samuel. Would you sit with her? I’d ask Wes, but…”

“Brigida doesn’t need unintentional, emotional triggering.” Samuel nodded. “You’ve got my and Wes’s number, right? Call one of us with good news.”

When Dean slid into Baby’s driver seat fifteen minutes later, he’d donned a suit that had been hanging in his closet, unworn, for over six months. That was the last time he had impersonated an FBI agent. The badge was still in the jacket’s inside pocket.

His hunting trips, the ones that had always really mattered, were few and far between now. Six months ago, he’d introduced himself as agent Agent Barrow on that excursion near Atlantic City. The four-day ghost investigation ended with a salt and burn. The corpse was found buried on the grounds of an abandoned chemical plant.

Noxious fumes had permeated the air around him with each shovel full of earth. The stench seeped into and clung to the well-creased suit pants. He should have changed before the dig; that is, if he’d remembered to bring a change of clothes from the motel to start. He was getting rusty from a lack of daily discipline, forgetting what had become rote for decades.

He remembered hiking back to Baby around two am, exhausted, after exhuming the remains. There was no way he was contaminating the car’s interior with that smell. So, he drove back to the motel wearing only his boxers, dress shoes, socks, and his watch. The stinky clothes were stuffed in a garbage bag. After he helped the soul find peace, his reward was walking through the motel parking lot, up a flight of stairs, to his second-floor room in only his skivvies. _Had to get the damn suit dry cleaned, too._

Dean caught a light whiff of the chemicals, hopelessly embedded in the suit threads forever. His mind raced with a million thoughts driving to Makenzie’s steakhouse. But Julie was at the forefront of them. It was a long twenty-minute drive.

_Find her, please._ How many times had he heard similar distressing requests? Hundreds, maybe. All of them had a missing loved one they were desperate to track down and bring home safe. How many times had he not been able to do that? _Not today._ He shook his head and tried to smile. _She’s not done with me yet._

Julie’s voice bubbled up into his mind when he glanced at the passenger seat.

_“So, Baby belonged to your Dad?” She attempted some conversation as Dean raced to beat the reservation._

_“Yep.” He responded, eyes on the road swerving in and out of traffic. Once he was happy with his spot in the fast lane, no one in front of him for a good stretch, he cocked his head in her direction. Her eyes, big and brown, inspected the interior while her hand clamped on the door handle. “Pretty, isn’t she?” Dean smirked, proud._

_“She is. Almost as pretty as her owner.” Her gaze locked onto his lips._

_“Hey now.” He put on the show he knew she wanted and licked them nice and slow. “She’ll get offended, you thinking I’m prettier.”_

_“I’m sorry, Baby.” She stroked the dash. “It’s true, though.”_

_Dean laughed. “I’m pretty, huh?” He shot back at Julie and glanced in the rear view mirror before crossing over three lanes of traffic to get off the interstate._

_Julie gasped. “Going to kill us before our date even gets started. If you’re going to drive like a maniac, you should at least be wearing a seat belt.”_

_Baby careened down the ramp. When he got onto the avenue, his grip lifted off the wheel to fasten his lap belt. Both hands raised up in the air and he used his knee to steer. “Happy?” He reveled in her surprised reaction. The combo of scared and pissed off made her look even cuter._

_“Okay, show-off.” She pointed at the wheel. “Hands at ten and two. Now.”_

_“Bossy.” He mumbled, returned his hands to the correct placement on the wheel, and pretended he wasn’t turned on by her commanding behavior. Slowing down in traffic, he shot her a sassy grin. “You done?”_

_“Done? With you?” She tossed back with an equal amount of sass. “Just getting started.”_

His ringing phone shot him out of his recollection. A glimmer of hope filled his voice as he answered. “Got something for me, detective?”

“Not sure if it’s anything good, my friend.” Marty was a straight shooter. “Officer found her car in a shopping center parking lot. Mile down the road from her house, in your neighborhood.” Marty was very good at his job. He didn’t miss a detail and double checked every bit of info. “No one in the vehicle. I’ve asked my guy to go into the stores and ask around. Have her paged, if needed. As long as we don’t get another emergency that takes him away, he’s on it for the next hour.”

It wasn’t bad news. _Yet._


	9. Chapter 9

“Welcome to Makenzie’s.” The same chipmunk-cheeked twenty-something from last night smiled at Dean when he approached the hostess stand. Her smile extended a bit wider in recognition. “Winchester, right?”

He flashed his best smile back. “Devin, right?”

She nodded with exuberance. “What can I do for you?”

“Some information would be great, Devin.”

“Sure, just a sec.” Devin handed the waitress standing next to her a few menus and chatted. The obvious flaws in Dean’s original plan smacked him in the face. _I’m just going to get escorted out if I try the FBI approach at a place I’ve already been to. Badge says Barrow._ Dean canvassed the dining area with his eyes. There was no sign of the woman he was trying to track. The smell of charred flesh made his stomach grumble. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, a couple cold pieces of pizza at Cas’s.

“Actually, if it’s alright, I’m just going to head to the bar?”

“Absolutely. Tables are all booked up for a good two hours, at least.”

He nodded and beelined to the bar.

*

Dean left the bar fifteen minutes later when he got what he needed from the chatty male bartender. Picking up on the gay vibes immediately, Dean turned up the flirting and got Chad to overpour two bourbon shots along with the information. A healthy tip accompanied the cash for a half-eaten plate of onion rings and the liquor. Dean had the first number on speed dial ringing with a flippant push on the exit door.

“Dean?”

“Hey, Sammy. I need your nerdiness.”

Sam huffed. “My computer skills, you mean?”

“Sure. If that makes you feel better.”

“What’s up?”

Dean eased into the driver’s seat and loosened his tie. “I’m not sure, yet. It’s one of my neighbors. She’s gone missing today.”

“Missing?”

“Yeah. I’ve got the name of one of the last people who saw her. Think you can get me an address?”

“I’ll try. Who am I looking up?”

“Ina Rever.”

“I-N-A? Rever, like lever?” Sam confirmed.

“Yep. See if anything comes up in Delaware.”

“Alright, gonna take a little time.”

“I’ll wait.”

Sam sighed.

“Unless I’m interrupting something?”

“No. Well, I was studying. I could actually use the break. Eileen’s out, getting groceries.”

“I thought you two just foraged around in fields for your food.”

“Funny. I can’t get Eileen to eat healthy for shit. Maybe now with a baby on the way...”

“I still can’t believe you’re going to be a dad,” Dean interrupted. “Poor kid.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“So, who went missing?”

“Neighbor. Name’s Julie Felton.”

“Wait. Julie? The Julie?”

Dean sifted through his spotty memory Rolodex. He was pretty sure he hadn’t mentioned Julie to Sam in any recent conversation. They’d only spoken a handful of times over the past couple months. “What do you mean ‘The Julie’?”

“Cas called this morning and told me all about her… and your date last night.”

 _Of course he did._ “Nothing much to tell, Sammy. It’s just important that I find her.”

“Right, right, of course.” Sam shifted to consoling mode. “You can tell me all about her after you find her. Okay, I’ve got an address for Ina.”

“Great. Text it to me.”

“Yeah, Dean, already done.”

Dean’s phone buzzed at the text from his brother.

“Do you need me to see if I can track Julie’s phone?”

“If you can. But, I checked her mom’s phone - they have one of those family apps that share location - and, it looks like it last shows her at the house this morning. Called up my connection at the police station to see what he could find. Her car turned up in a parking lot at a shopping center, not far from the house. Cop’s goin’ store to store.”

“You called Marty? How’s he doing?”

“I didn’t get a chance to ask.” Dean had mentioned the detective to Sam a few times, being one of the handful of people he could call a friend. “Just sent her number to you.”

“Maybe I can get something else from the cell towers. Finding a car out in the open is pretty good news, Dean. It might all be nothing and she’s safe and sound. You know, a big misunderstanding. Wait, though.” He hummed. “Weird.”

“What?” Dean plugged the address into his phone’s GPS and started the engine as the route calculated.

He switched Sam to speaker. His voice wielded priority over the robotic female starting to spout directions. “Well, I’m not finding anything else on this Ina Rever. No history. Nothing before her poofing into thin air in Delaware.” Dean could hear computer keys tapping. He shifted into drive and rolled out of the parking spot. “Let me just…”

“I’ve got ten minutes before I get to this place, Sammy. Whatever you can find, find it quick.”

“I ran the photo from the driver’s license through a bunch of databases. Got facial matches, all under different names, all over the country… over the past five decades it looks like.”

“Five decades? Woman’s maybe in her thirties.”

“Her Delaware license says she’s 33. Dean…”

“Shit.” _No. Julie._

“Something supernatural.” Sam finished.

“What the hell? I got nothing to go on here! No idea what I’m walking into! Vamp nest? Werewolf pack?” Dean yelled at the phone.

“Calm down, Dean. Let me dig into some of the places where this woman’s been. Do you know anything about her?”

“Julie can’t spare a minute for a trip down memory lane.”

“She can if it helps find her. And, you’ve got eight minutes before you get there.”

Dean split his focus between the GPS directions and anything he could remember that Ina mentioned over the dinner table last night. “She’s a waitress at a restaurant. Sounded like she just moved to Delaware a couple months ago.”

“Okay. Whatever it is, if it’s got a routine or needs to…” Sam cleared his throat. Dean knew Sam stopped himself from saying “feed”. “Some weird stuff might have happened a couple months after she moved into these other places. Missing persons, maybe?”

Dean clenched his jaw, not wanting to speak the next request. “Look for missing persons that turned up dead.” Keyboard clicks went on for a while. “Five minutes, Sammy,” Dean reminded.

“Not helping, dude.” More agonizing seconds ticked by. “Got something. One of the missing persons was found a week after they disappeared.”

“Alive or dead?” Dean took the ramp off the highway, staring out at the business and industrial section of New Castle to his right.

Sam sighed. “Dead.”

Dean kept his focus on the job at hand and took a deep breath. “Where’d they find the body?”

“Looks like it was in an abandoned warehouse.”

“Fuck me!” Dean barked.

“What?”

“This thing’s place of residence is like a minute away from warehouse central! Miles of it.”

“Stick to the plan, Dean. Check out the house first.”

Dean nodded with intent even though Sam couldn’t see him.

“Oh.” Sam mumbled.

“What?”

“The cause of death was exsanguination.”

“Vampire?”

“Maybe. But, I got into the police records. Does this sound familiar? Body was found hanging by its wrists, trussed up. The reporting officer said it looked like a blood bank in there. Needles, tubes, collection vials. Like the person was being drained. Slow.”

Hope sprung back into Dean’s mind. “A Jinn? With an MO like the one that was feeding off me for days? That means there’s time to find her.”

“Maybe. But, it could still be a vamp or some other bloodsucking variation.”

“But if it’s a Jinn, she’s got a shot.” Run down houses lined the blocks of the neighborhood he rolled through. Parked cars squeezed into every inch of available space along the narrow streets. Soft, setting rays angled onto the cheap, dirty vinyl siding on the house that matched the address. “I’m losing sun, Sam. What kind of car does this thing drive?” He parallel parked Baby into a tight spot and shut off the engine, glancing around the street.

“Green, Honda Civic.”

“Great. Nondescript and basic. Like every other car. But… I don’t see one here.”

A barking dog barreled towards Dean’s car in the unkempt yard of the house. It stopped feet short of the chain link fence, whining, as the long leash went taut.

“Son of a bitch. Cocoa’s home.” Dean mumbled.

“What?” Sam asked, confused.

“Nothing.” The car door squeaked. He hurried to the back. A swerve of his head noted no one out on the nearby street or sidewalk. No one hung out in the vehicle behind him, either. He popped the Impala’s trunk and readied to hang up. “Let me get in there.”

“Dean?”

“What?” The phone pressed to his ear, pinched between his shoulder and cheek. He lifted the false bottom of the trunk up for a quick peek, reached for his Colt where it always was, and checked the cartridge had silver bullets. They’d been the standard go to for years now. His backup monster insurance. _Fresh out of lamb’s blood to dip a silver knife in. Plan B - Bash the thing’s head to chili if it is a Jinn._

“Keep me on the line. You know, in case something happens. I might be able to help.”

The hood clicked close. Dean sighed. “Alright. The phone in the pocket, camera thing?”

“Yeah, that works.”

Sam requested a FaceTime connection. Dean squinted at the screen, walking and talking on the path toward the front porch. “Dude, you look like you’re auditioning for the lead in a Jesus musical... ‘Go Tell It On The Mountain” or some other hippie shit. Your hair. And again with that fucking beard.” Cocoa kept up on the other side of the fence, no longer barking. It didn’t look out of the ordinary. Tail wagging, begging for attention.

Dean could barely make out Sam’s bitchface under all the hair. “Shut up. Remember…”

“Switch the camera angle. Put yourself on mute, would ya?” The phone slid into the jacket’s chest pocket.

“I will.” Sam’s voice was muffled. “That’s perfect. Be careful. Going radio silent.”

_Geek._

Dean knocked, surveyed anything he could of the small cottage house through the windowpanes. “Hello?” He called out and knocked again. The knob rattled under his grip, locked. _Flimsy ass door._ He looked around to ensure no one was passing by or in his sightline. Dean stepped back and kicked the door dead center. The weight and force behind the sole of his dress shoes propelled it open on its hinges. It swung back almost to the original closed position.

 _Sam’s probably busting a blood vessel right about now._ He tapped the door with his foot to get a lay of the land. “Hello?” Strolling in, he called out. “Door was open.” His hand reached around to his back under the jacket, ready to pull out his gun if needed. “Ina Rever?”

The inside of the house was neat, tidy, and what he thought would be called shabby chic or some shit. It smelled of incense.

“Fuck this.” He mumbled and pulled out his gun. Around every corner, he rounded with an unflinching focus on the front sight and the view just beyond. His feet were quick, two stepping all throughout. His breathing steadied to control his grip and aim. Every closet and room searched, including the basement. The backyard was empty. _Nothing._

Dean slipped the gun back under his jacket before stepping onto the porch, shutting the door with the mangled lock best he could. “Still there, Sammy?” He could hear the irritation in his own voice.

It took a couple seconds for his brother to respond. “Yeah.” 

“Anything on Julie’s cell?” He rushed to the car, phone in hand and glanced at his brother’s face.

“Nothing.”

He shook his head and stared out at the countless warehouses on the horizon. “If the car’s not here…”

“She probably drove to where she’s got Julie. I was searching near your location while you broke into the house.”

The undertone of disapproval from his little brother was obvious. He placed Sam on Baby’s hood and removed his jacket and tie, tossing them in the back seat. “And?”

“Three abandoned warehouses.”

“Let’s go.”

*

“So, this girl?” Sam glanced at Dean from the phone’s screen, mounted on the dash. He was giving Dean directions, using his location tracker to monitor his movement. A clear blue sky framed Sam, sitting out in his backyard. It was still sunny and 6:00 pm in California. The sun, however, had set on the east coast. The road in front of Dean was dark, lit up golden by Baby’s headlights.

Dean knew what Sam was up to. His way to distract his older brother from spiraling. Act first, think later was never Sam’s approach. And almost always his.

“She’s not a girl, Sammy. Every ounce of her is all woman.”

“Yeah.” Sam cleared his throat. “I checked out her social media accounts. Very nice, Dean. Another two miles. Make a right at the next crossroads. It’ll be a half a mile on your right.”

Dean closed his eyes as he drove the straight patch of road to the second warehouse on the list. _No way my luck would have had her at our first stop._ Images from last night flashed in his mind. Julie staring down into his eyes with those big brown ones while he worshipped her. Gorgeous, thick, wavy brown locks of her hair tickling the tips of his fingers kneading her ample chest. Her plump lips parting in arousal and want. The curve of her breast dipping over and above his mouth as he suckled. He could almost taste the slight sweat and salt. The way her hard yet pliable nipple rolled against and pushed into his tongue. She struggled to moan his name. It was the sexiest thing he’d heard in forever. 

A truck coming at him on the two-lane road blared his horn. Dean jolted and steered back into his lane. _Dammit._

“You okay?” Sam’s forehead wrinkled like the skin folds of a Shar Pei puppy.

“Yeah.”

“Cas said you were pretty wound up last night, about Julie. Really upset that you had to cut the date short.”

“Are you really talking to me about this? Now?”

“I can never keep you on the phone for more than five minutes, Dean. Captive audience right now.”

“And you think I stick _my_ foot in _my_ mouth?”

“Sorry. It’s just… you like her. A lot. Yeah, saving people, it’s ingrained in us, part of our DNA. But you wouldn’t knock a door down the way you did for just anybody.”

Dean drove way over the speed limit.

“ _When_ we find her, safe, you’re going to tell me all about her.”

Dean refused to reply, to reveal the thoughts tripping over each other, as he continued down the road. He didn’t speak again until Baby’s headlights washed over the back bumper of a Green Honda Civic parked around the corner of a two-story warehouse by a large dumpster. He slowed down and killed the engine, rolling to a quiet stop.

“Looks like the jackpot is behind door number two.”

Sam’s face lit up. “Let’s get in there.”

Dean shook his head. “No. This is what I need you to do. I’m texting you Marty’s number. If you don’t hear back from me in ten minutes, you call him. Tell him who you are, where I am, and what we think we’ve been tracking. He’ll take it from there.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I got this, Sammy.”

He nodded. “Be careful.”

Dean gave him a small smile and ended the call. He texted Sam the number, made sure he got a response back that Sam had it, and set his phone to Do Not Disturb. He rummaged through the glove box and found his pocketknife. A small flashlight gripped tight in his fist as he left the safety of the car.

Gravel crunched under his feet, eventually merging into a blacktop near three loading bay doors. The roll-up of the center door was not flush to the ground; left open enough for someone to slide under. _Here we go._

Dean wasted no time and scooted on his chest into the building, no longer concerned about the condition of his dress shirt and pants. He jumped to his feet in the pitch black of the warehouse. Breathing slowed. Eyes adjusted while he refrained from using the flashlight. He always wondered how good a Jinn’s eyesight was in the dark. Ceiling high racks and shelves of steel framework came into slight focus. They created three long rows in front of him.

A lingering smell of sawdust filled his nose. He afforded seconds to close his eyes, tilting his head like a satellite dish to zero in on the slightest noise. Aside from the ramping of his heartbeat, there was nothing to hint of occupants other than Dean. _Might as well make my presence known. She has to be here._ He swallowed, pulled out his gun and turned on the flashlight. His body steeled into a military stance. Grounded, steady steps marched forward. A path down the center aisle would give him the best view of the massive warehouse floor. The flashlight above his gun lit the way, sweeping back and forth along the concrete.

“Julie!” His voice boomed, echoed back. Empty cardboard boxes, pilfered through by vagrants or scavengers, lay along the floor with packing material. Dean zigzagged through the maze. Bubble wrap popped under one foot. He froze, waiting for the sound to subside. “Julie!” He called out again. Not sure if it was his eyes playing tricks on him, he thought he saw a shadow flicker farther down the dead end he was headed straight toward. Movement got his attention along his right in the other aisle. _God, I hope it’s just one of ‘em._

More boxes came into focus. But these were neatly stacked, forming a partition and one narrow entrance Dean would be forced to take. He made certain no one was behind him. He inhaled and exhaled slow, then rounded the corner and inventoried the space.

It was a bare bones phlebotomy lab. Three rolling carts had needles, tubes, IV bags, and other random medical equipment atop them. He opened a cooler with the tip of his shoe and noted two filled blood bags atop ice cubes not even melted. _Definitely still here._

His eyes were drawn to translucent sheeting hung from steel shelving in the back corner. The halo of light revealed a silhouette behind the milky colored plastic. He straightened, cocked his shoulders back, and approached with his gun aimed, ready to fire if necessary. One of his hands reached for the side of the plastic and ripped it away, hard.

Material swooshed. Clips clanged onto the floor. “Julie.” Dean whispered.

Julie’s wrists were bound in thick twists of rope. Her body hung from the shackling. Dean’s eyes widened at her disrobed state. She’d been left in only a tank top and panties. The toes of her bare feet were the only part touching the floor. A needle had been inserted into her inner thigh. Julie’s blood traveled through the tubing, filling another bag by her feet. _Femoral artery. Quick drain._

His neck craned from one side to the other. He peered into the adjacent aisle to see if they had company. When he was certain there was no one, his mind assessed the situation. He holstered the gun behind his back into the waistband. Placing the flashlight on the closest cart illuminated Julie’s grim and dire state. _Gotta get her down, at least slow the blood flow._

The pocketknife sprung open in one hand. His heart ached as he stepped toward Julie. He stared down at the disheveled hair falling in front of her slumped figure. “Julie?” He whispered. Two of his fingers went to the side of her neck. Hope sprung back when he felt the faint pulse. “Can you hear me? It’s Dean. Gonna get you out of here, okay.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her in a vice, pressing his body to hers for support. Her body lifted off the ground an inch or two. The rope went a bit slack. The knife’s blade pushed taut against the give and sawed.

Julie’s head lolled back between the arms still tied above her. Her hair parted to display the face he’d grown fond of staring at. She looked peaceful, with closed eyes and the hint of the tiniest smile. Dean knew from his own run in with a Jinn that there was a good chance she was in some idyllic dream state. _Hopefully not the nightmare kind._ “Gonna be okay.” He murmured more to ease his own thoughts. “Come on.” He voiced his impatience at the rope.

He grunted when the frayed rope released its hold. Julie’s arms tumbled to her sides. He let the knife fall to the ground and embraced her tight with both arms, cradling the back of her head with the palm of one hand. “Gotcha.” He whispered and brought her to the floor, resting her gently on the concrete.

Dean rose. _Gotta get her help._ Before he could search for the phone in his pocket, something barreled from behind right into his lower back. He arched backward at the force and slammed into the side of one of the medical carts and finally into the wall of cardboard boxes. His mind at work the entire time, he righted himself in an instant. A quick hop to his feet and he pulled out his gun, aiming where the attack originated.

All five feet of the petite Jinn, using the name Ina Rever, stood between him and Julie’s slumbering frame. Her blue eyes shone in the shadows. He could make out the intricate tattoos forming on the surface of its skin. _She’s charging up her poison. Can’t let those hands touch my skin._ Dean closed the distance between them. She knelt to the ground.

 _Shit._ If he took a shot at her now, he risked hitting Julie. The Jinn rotated and spun, extended a leg outward, connecting into Dean’s shins. He dropped to the right. The gun flew out of his hand and he landed face forward onto his chest. _Shit._

A tiny elbow with concentrated energy rammed into the center of his spine. He groaned. _Fast little fucker._ She sprung back up, stepped back, and landed on top of him again, elbow in between his shoulder blades.

She stood up and sounded out of breath. Dean could only see her sneakers shuffling from side to side like a boxer. Julie lay behind her, dead to the world. Dean’s eyes lit up at the pocketknife a couple feet behind the Jinn as well.

“This one wasn’t much of a challenge. Dangle a lost dog in front of her and she willingly offers to drive me back to my car at the shopping center and hand out flyers. Of course, if it wasn’t for naive, helpful people like Julie, I might starve.” Ina’s perky little voice wafted down to Dean. The pain in his back radiated into his limbs. “I didn’t think she’d be missed so soon, though. But, I should have known it would have probably been you, after seeing you both at dinner last night.” He hooked his fingers into a deep grout line on the concrete floor and pulled his body a few inches. Ina kicked him in the stomach, which only helped spur Dean closer to the knife. “She’s got it bad for you. When I fed off her just a little while ago, straight from the tap, I got a glimpse at her happy place. She is all about the happy endings with you. Dean, right?”

“What can I say,” he groaned. “I have that kind of effect on women.” _Keep monologuing, bitch. I just need to get a little closer._

“I guess her occupation with you is another reason her guard was down. So, thank you for that.”

“Don’t mention it.” He slammed his hand onto the pocketknife and then catapulted up, plunging the blade into Ina’s thigh. She screeched. He held on with everything he could and forced the knife through the muscle like a lever. Crimson splattered and flowed down Dean’s arm and white dress shirt.

She collapsed to the floor, clutching at her leg. He was on her in a flash and captured her between his kneeling frame. A slash of the blade along her neck sputtered blood. Then, he pummeled at her face over and over again until the body stilled.

Dean was pretty sure she was dead. He slammed her head a few times into the concrete for good measure. He huffed, rose to his feet and closed the pocketknife. He caught sight of his gun on the floor, grabbed it, and slipped it into his pants. When he pulled out the phone he saw Sam had tried to call him numerous times. He called him back.

“Dean? What’s going on?”

Dean kneeled next to Julie. He swept her hair away and checked for a pulse again. “I found her. She’s alright, I hope. But she’s in one of those fairy tale comas, I think.”

“So, it was a Jinn?”

“‘Was’ being the key word.”

Sam huffed. “Well, I hope Marty is as good of a guy as you say he is. He’s on his way there.” 

“How long ago did you call him?”

“I called him as soon as I hung up with you. Maybe twenty minutes.”

He smiled against the phone as he heard the bay door roll up. “Dean!” Marty called out.

“Thanks for not following my directions, Sammy.”

“Anytime, Dean.”


	10. Chapter 10

The first time he had caught Julie staring into his backyard, almost three months ago, Van Halen’s “Hot for Teacher” blared in his head. He watched her from his kitchen window, careful to lean out of view so she wouldn’t see him. She was pretty, highlighted in the morning sunshine. Not very tall or short, average height in a pair of flats. He spotted the curves, hiding under dress pants and a cardigan, begging to be seen.

And after a couple weeks of the spying by the hot little librarian, well that was enough to get him to do some digging. Through his research, he found a textbook case of an American female born in the late twentieth century. Giulia Louisa Cuore. Julie to everyone else besides her mom and dad. Born in December of 1981 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to parents who emigrated from Italy.

The little family moved to Wilmington, Delaware when she was a baby. A brother tagged along for the ride four years later. She went to a Catholic elementary school and an all-girls Catholic high school. Dean choked on the beer he was gulping when he’d read that. She was a chubby, awkward kid and teenager, complete with glasses and braces. But damn if she didn’t get better with age as Dean poured through the Internet trail. College followed, nothing spectacular to note, but solid grades. No sports or extracurricular activities to speak of. She got a stable job and then, some years later, she got a ring on it. She became Julie Felton and was married for ten years. The only anomaly, before the divorce, was the lack of kids.

Her life sounded so easy, simple, normal on paper. He knew, of course, nothing was that easy, simple, or normal. But Julie’s story might have been catalogued in the Women’s Fiction or Romance section of a bookstore. The series Chuck had penned about Dean and Sam’s life was cross catalogued in Mythology, Horror, Sci-Fi, and Theology.

So, he had decided early on he was going to close the book on Julie Felton. Enjoy her from afar on occasion when he could. Peek at a few pages. Let her slowly put her life back together again and see the story play out from the view of his own backyard. He didn’t know how long she’d stay anyway. The quick separation he’d read about from Steve Felton, a Communications Director at the biggest hospital in upstate Delaware, and her even quicker house purchase during it all, could mean anything. Maybe she was rash, quick to act, like him. Maybe she’d be married in six months, moved out, and he’d never see that pretty face again.

But something told him, from all that he’d learned, that she was methodical and thought long and hard about the consequences her actions created. When she made a decision, he felt she’d follow it through. Another reason he didn’t introduce himself. He knew, could tell, she wanted to meet him. And the more he saw of her, the more he wanted to meet her. Maybe see what normal was like again. But he was all kinds of trouble. _What did Bobby used to say? Ten pounds of shit in a five-pound bag._

And, then, when he knew the grass couldn’t wait to get mowed any longer, as Spring pushed the growth of his lawn into high gear, he strolled out to inspect it one morning and got ambushed by a sweet little Italian mother.

Now, not even two months later, after agreeing to mow a neighbor’s lawn, he was back at it. Staring at Julie and she was still none the wiser of his presence. The hospital machines beeped around her bed in the ICU room she’d been wheeled into a half hour ago. A nurse checked and noted the information on the screens.

_Now who’s playing hide and seek, Jules?_

“Giulia!” Brigida’s tiny frame stood in the doorway.

Another nurse appeared, flustered, behind her. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, we can only have one visitor in this room at a time.”

Dean stood up and walked over to Brigida. She snatched one of his large hands, her hazel eyes wide at the blood all over his shirt. “It’s okay.” He nodded at Brigida and then looked over to the nurse. “I’ll be outside.”

Dean could hear Julie’s mom call out to her again from where he stood in the hallway. From his vantage he saw Samuel and Wes standing in the waiting room at the far end of the corridor. He waved and trudged over to give them what little news he could. Their eyes bugged out even larger than Brigida’s at his appearance.

He knew exactly what was going on with Julie but couldn’t let on a damn thing. The only one who got an earful of the Jinn mythos, Clif notes version style, was Marty. Dean explained everything that had gone down in that afternoon. They used rope to create a tourniquet around Julie’s thigh to slow down the blood loss. Two squad cars and an ambulance showed up not long after. Dean watched the paramedics inspect Julie and move her onto a gurney. They loaded her with care into the back of the emergency vehicle. Marty made sure Dean went along for the ride. Red and blue lights flashed over the warehouse exterior wall and nearby field. They crossed paths with another ambulance on the way to the crime scene. That one would’ve been for Ina’s dead body.

“Are you alright, Dean?” Samuel asked, motioning to Dean’s shirt, after listening to the kidnapping tale.

“Oh, yeah. Not my blood. Or Julie’s.” He wasn’t going to mention how much blood Julie had been drained of; Wes already looked queasy enough. “Thanks for bringing Brigida.”

“Of course.” Samuel stated. “So, she’s stable?”

“As stable as one can be when they’re unconscious.” Dean shrugged. He clocked a state trooper staring at him in the waiting room. The man in the head to toe khaki ensemble marched toward him in his brown boots. _Marty told me I’d need to be prepared to go in for questioning as soon as things calmed down._ “Listen, I’m probably going to have to head to the police station soon. Will you be able to stay?”

They nodded in unison. Dean turned at the tap on his shoulder. The trooper’s bushy mustache twitched as he spoke. “Dean Winchester?”

“That’d be me.”

“Officer Murray. Detective Martin Tullman wants me to escort you to the station for some routine questioning.”

_There’s absolutely nothing routine about any of this._ “Sure. But, I need to be able to get back here as soon as possible. Oh, and just one question for you.”

The officer tipped his hat and waited.

“Who’s driving me back to get my car?”

*

After the station and the ride back to get Baby, he had checked in with Wes and Samuel. They were still at the hospital with Brigida at almost midnight. There was no new news to report. Dean took the opportunity to race home and shower off the Jinn bits. He beat his record for the quickest clean and clothe and headed back.

When Dean arrived, he ordered Wes and Samuel to get themselves home. Brigida insisted that she would stay at the hospital all night, sleep in the waiting room, and that Dean should go home as well.

“There’s no way you’re staying here by yourself.” Dean shook his head. “Julie will kill me when she wakes up.”

Brigida offered a weary smile. They sat in the waiting room, now a lot less populated since visiting hours were over. A few other people and groups milled about like Brigida and Dean, hoping for some good news.

“Want me to get you something from the vending machine? I’m sure you haven’t eaten. Julie… she mentioned you’re on a lot of medication. The last thing she’d want is for you to get sick because you aren’t taking care of yourself with all this worry.”

“I took them. I can’t eat all that junk.” A wave of her hand dismissed the offer. “My sugar will go up. It’s already too high. I feel it.”

Dean frowned.

“You can take me back to Julie’s in a little while.” She clutched her purse to her chest. “I’ll get myself home in the morning for all my medicine and other things. Then, I’ll come back here.”

“Okay.” He knew better than to push any further. He clapped a hand on her forearm. “You just let me know when you’re ready to leave. And, I’ll take you back here in the morning.”

She tapped his hand on her arm. “I knew you were a good man.”

A tall, skinny man in grey jogging pants and a blue hoodie rushed up to Brigida. “How’s Julie?”

It took Dean a second to place him. He’d seen that face when he was snooping into Julie. But the pictures he’d seen of this man had a lot less wrinkles and a lot more hair.

“Steve?” Brigida’s face turned stern. “What are you doing here?”

“I got a call from the hospital a few hours ago, but I missed it. I’m still listed as an emergency contact.” Steve looked to Dean and then to his hand consoling Brigida. “How’s Julie?” he repeated.

Brigida choked back a ton of emotions, her face reddening.

Dean cleared his throat and spoke. “She’s unconscious. Doctor’s aren’t sure what’s wrong yet. They’ve run a bunch of tests. No brain trauma they can see.”

Steve scrunched his face up and snapped his head back. He looked like a disgruntled turtle. “Who are you?”

“Dean Winchester. I’m a neighbor of Julie’s.” He didn’t bother to offer his hand to shake.

“What happened?” Steve stared at Brigida again.

Dean rose and stepped in between Brigida and Steve. A small part of him took pride in the fact that he was taller than Julie’s ex. “Look, Steve. Brigida doesn’t have a whole lot in terms of details.” He lowered his voice. “I was the one that found Julie.”

Steve straightened his posture but still couldn’t make up much of the height difference. “What do you mean found her? Where?”

“You should probably reach out to a Detective Martin Tullman for the details. State Police. Troop 6. He may not be able to give them to you, though, being that you aren’t married to Julie anymore.”

The blue irises hid behind narrowing lids. “Who’d you say you were again?”

“Dean Winchester.”

Steve nodded his head. “Well, being that I’m the Communications Director at this hospital, I’m sure I can get all the information that I need.” He turned and headed for the nurses’ station.

“Just make sure it’s legal and you follow all that HIPPA crap,” Dean added, loud and clear, so everyone could hear. “Lawsuits are a bitch.”

Steve stopped his advance, cocked his head to Dean and Brigida, and faked a painful smile. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep me apprised of Julie’s condition, Mom.” He stormed off.

Brigida scoffed and sniffled back some tears. “Mom. He hardly ever called me that when they were married.” She groaned at the sound of her knees creaking when she got up. “I’m going to go say good night to Giulia.”

“Brigida, I don’t think they’ll…”

Another wave. “Let them try and stop me. Coming?”

“I-I don’t…”

A hand wrapped in the crook of his elbow. “Then, just come along and get me down this hallway.” The tired nurse at the station acknowledged and watched them pass by with a smile. “Remind me to bring that one some food. She needs to eat more.” Brigida whispered to Dean. He chuckled.

Julie’s room was dark. A shaft of hallway light spilled onto the speckled tile floor. Their shadows broke into the room before they stepped inside. A painful ache stabbed Dean in the chest. Julie was awash in artificial blue light radiating from the machines monitoring her condition. A bunch of wires and tubes were strapped to her lifeless frame, including one intubating her.

Brigida leaned over the edge of her daughter’s hospital bed. Her hand stretched to reach Julie’s forehead. She closed her hands and started reciting something in Italian. Her fingers made small gestures of the cross over and over the skin while she continued the incantation. She rubbed the forehead gently when she was done. Something on Dean’s face must have required an explanation, because she stated, “In case she was cursed with _Malocchio._ ”

“Cursed with what?”

“Evil eye. That was a prayer I learned when I was little to help get rid of it.”

Dean walked over to the other side of the bed. “You believe in curses, Brigida?”

Brigida nodded. “There’s a lot I believe in that Giulia thinks is crazy. Curses, ghosts, possession. I saw many things growing up in Italy that no one could explain.” She kissed her own fingers and then placed them on Julie’s forehead. “I just don’t want her in more pain than she already is. Can’t hurt.”

Dean smiled. “No. Can’t hurt.”

“I’m gonna go find out what kind of pasta that nurse likes and make sure she’ll be here tomorrow.” Brigida headed toward the exit. “Say goodnight.” She smiled and left Dean alone in the room with Julie.

Dean sighed and stared at Julie. “Don’t believe in the supernatural, huh? Gonna make for quite an awkward explanation about the family business.” He bent down, grabbed her hand, and whispered. “If you can hear me, Julie, I need you to listen. You’re dreaming right now. However great it is, it’s just a dream. And, you need to wake up. So, I’m going to do what I can on this side in the land of the living. But you can end it, too.” He swallowed. “If you kill yourself in the dream, you’ll wake up. But even more important… if you die any other way, not by your own hands… you won’t wake up. Ever again.” Dean pursed his lips together for a brief moment. “So, you need to be careful, okay? Until I can fix it or you beat me to it.”

He leaned in and brushed his lips against her forehead. Then, he said a silent prayer and kissed her forehead one more time. “Can’t hurt.”

*

_“What are you up to, Winchester?” Julie called across the yard, over to Dean, her hands clutching the top of the chain link fence. The property divider prevented her from sprinting through the grass and into those arms of his._

_He dropped a bucket by one of Baby’s dirty rims and headed to the shed. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” He smirked in her direction._

_She squinted and identified some cleaning products peeking out of the top of the bucket. She was too damn far away from the man. It wasn’t fair. It’s not like she could hop a fence as easy as he could._

_He emerged from the shed with a water hose wrapped in a neat bundle and draped over a shoulder. “Wanna help?”_

_Her internal temperature rose about ten degrees. The bright blue sunny day with not a cloud in the sky had little to do with it. That thin white, v-neck t-shirt clinging to Dean accounted for three degrees. The curve of his ass, filling out his faded jeans as he bent down to connect the house to the spigot ticked up another two degrees. But it was the full-watt smile that he beamed up at her when he rose, along with a wipe of his wet hand along one denim clad ass cheek that made up the other five._

_He rubbed his hands together and strolled over to meet her on the fence line. His cool to the touch, damp palm rested on her fingers. He kissed her lips, not caring who was looking, out in the open. But Julie felt like it was only him and her in the whole entire world, right then and there. He licked his lips when he was done. “She’s gotten all kinds of filthy.”_

_She grinned. “Still talking about the car?”_

_He nipped at her top lip. “Come on, babe.” He smirked. “I wanna get you all wet.”_

_“I don’t know.” She sighed, her inner walls clenching at Dean’s naughty gaze and innuendo. “Washing Baby? That’s quite a big step in our relationship. What if I scratch her?”_

_“I won’t let you handle any tools that can do any damage. Just a sudsy wet sponge.” He kissed her forehead._ “Can’t hurt.”

_“Alright.”_

_He walked backwards and swung out an arm. “Get on over here, then.”_

_Julie frowned and searched her yard. She lifted a finger, an idea forming. One wicker chair was pulled to the fence. She stepped onto it, chair legs shaking on the uneven ground, and took a deep breath. The top of the fence pressed into her torso. “I have no athletic coordination, you know.”_

_“Give yourself a good hop up and over. Let your feet hit the ground first and not your face.” He chuckled. His hands were on his hips, bowlegs flared out, as he watched and waited in a superhero stance. All he needed was a cape._

_“Okay. Here goes nothing.” Julie jumped._

_*_

_Dean twirled her around from the stove and the pot of boiling pasta that garnered her attention. He held her in a tight vice grip and stared into her eyes. She held onto the wet, wooden spoon wedged between their bodies. His eyes shifted to a mossy green shade._ “Gotcha.” _He whispered._

_“Never have truer words been spoken.” Julie smiled. She shimmied her hands up and out to rest her forearms atop broad shoulders. The spoon swayed behind his back. “How do you like your spaghetti? Al dente or mushy?”_

_“Whatever gives me more time to do this.” He bent down and opened her lips with a parting of his own. His tongue delved inside, tasting her, making her moan at the strength and thoroughness of that particular muscle. Hands splayed over her back, pushing her close._

_She was panting and out of breath when he finally pulled his mouth away. His eyes widened at the scene behind her. “Shit!”_

_The overflow of bubbling water seared and sizzled against the side of the pot and into the burner’s flames. “Shit!” She repeated and rotated in his arms to turn off the gas. “You made me lose all track of time.” An attempt to calm the roaring water with a swish of the spoon did little. When the boil subsided, she fished out a long strand and bit into it. “Well, at least they’re not ruined.”_

_Dean’s hands rested on her hips, leaning into her backside. He contorted his tall frame and rested his chin on her right shoulder. “I’ll be the judge.” His jaw moved and pressed into her skin, unhinged, open, and waiting. She pulled out another bit of pasta and dangled it over his lips. He captured and slurped the entire length in a second. Droplets of pasta water hit her cheeks. “Yep, it’s good.”_

_A quick pull of potholders over her hands readied for dumping pasta into the colander. “You are not allowed in the kitchen when I’m cooking. Too much of a distraction.” She bumped her ass into his thighs. “Move.” She giggled._

_He sighed and leaned back, stepping toward the counter. “Fine.” Water poured into the sink and drowned out his other comment._

_“What?” she turned and asked._

_“I said I couldn’t help it. I’m hungry.” He raised an eyebrow._

_She shook her head and felt the pasta steam redden her face. “You’re always hungry.”_

_He shrugged, not putting up an argument. “You done?”_

_Julie’s mouth opened. She placed the empty pot back on the stove. Her potholder clad hands fisted and rested on her hips. “I’m sorry, am I not moving fast enough for you?”_

_“Nope.” He bent down and rushed her frame. Before she could react, he’d lifted her up and draped her over his shoulder._

_She gasped, tossed the potholders and tried to hold onto his back. “Dean!”_

_He smacked her ass and chuckled. His arms wrapped over her legs. One hand wedged between her thighs and slipped up along the heat of her pulsing mound. He carried her out of the kitchen and headed for the living room. An unceremonious dump onto the couch cushions had her staring up at him. His eyes lit up and he smirked. “I said I was hungry.”_

_*_

Dean chomped into the massive takeout burger. Leaning over his coffee table, he devoured his late lunch. Sam grimaced at him from the laptop screen sharing space on the table.

“That stuff is going to kill you, Dean.”

“We’ve been through this, Sammy. If bacon’s what kills me, I win.” A dribble of secret sauce trickled down his chin and onto the food wrappers protecting the tabletop. He spoke through the chews. “So, back to the antidote…”

Sam shook his head. “Yeah. I speedy shipped the stuff to you. According to my tracking number, you should get it tonight. Just mix it according to the directions I’ll email over. Right. Now.”

Dean’s computer dinged. He slurped his soda. “Injection through the heart? Really has to be through the heart?”

“It’s like a shot of adrenaline.”

Dean frowned after another mouthful of beef and bacon.

“Julie’s still the same?”

He sighed. A couple crumbs hit the screen.

“Did you really just spit your food at me?”

Dean swallowed and used his sleeve to wipe the laptop clean. “Shut up. Yes, she’s still the same. I left Brigida at the hospital about an hour ago. No improvement, but nothing worse either. The doctor says her heartbeat gets a bit high every once in a while, and there’s some spike in brain activity. She’s responding to some sort of stimulation.” He remembered the wistful smile on Julie’s face that day.

“That’s good.” Sam chuckled. “Well, maybe when she wakes up, she’ll reevaluate what she finds attractive about you in the first place and come to her senses.” Sam cleared his throat. “It was a joke, Dean.”

“Not that far off, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Winchester curse.”

“Geez, not that again.”

“You think it’s a coincidence that this poor woman, with no previous supernatural experiences or run-ins, happens to get kidnapped by a Jinn just a couple months after meeting me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Activity has been sporadic at best.” Dean shook his head. “I put her in danger by breathing in her general direction.”

“Did you ever think that maybe she’s lucky?”

“Lucky?” Dean scoffed, mindful to direct his response away from Sam this time.

“She was lucky that you were around when this happened. You saved her, dude. No matter what, there was nothing intentional on your part to put her in danger.” Sam picked up his phone, blasting an alarm. “Look, I’ve got to get ready to head to class. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get the work done when the supplies make it to you. Call me if you need help with the instructions. I know reading’s not your specialty.”

“Alright, alright.” Dean threw him a sarcastic smile.

“Later.”

*

_Baby’s passenger side door squeaked. Julie’s sandals met the gravel and the cool summer air tickled over her exposed arms. Her neck craned upward, staring into the midnight blue sky lit up like a Christmas tree._

_Dean shut the driver’s side door in unison with Julie on the other end. She looked over and saw him gazing up as well. “Nice.” He commented._

_“See? I wasn’t kidding about the view.”_

_“Well, it’s not quite as great as Kansas at night.” Even in the dark the night sky illuminated the lookout point, one of many along Skyline Drive. Their road trip originated in Delaware late that morning and was now winding through the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. Dean wandered around Baby’s hood to stand in front of Julie. Arms wrapped around her waist._

_“East coast girl, east coast views.” She looked around the field. “Weird, though. I’ve never been to this spot at night and had it all to ourselves. Not another car or person checking out the sky.”_

_Dean nodded. “I reserved it just for us. I know a guy.”_

_Julie smirked and stared at his sassy grin. She was inches from his delicious lips. “You didn’t even know where we were going.”_

_He shrugged, leaning closer. “So, family trips here every summer, huh?”_

_“From when I was about eight up until 15. Joey and I arguing in the back seat of Dad’s Mustang. Mom in the passenger seat, yelling at Dad every time he whacked Joey in the back of the head for being a pain in the ass. Getting a bucket of crispy, fried chicken right before we started up Skyline.”_

_Dean kissed her. She tasted the salt and spices. “I like that tradition.” He mumbled and smiled. “We get to make a new one.”_

_Julie was about to ask what he meant when he hoisted her up by her waist and sat her ass on Baby’s hood. “Whoa. Isn’t this sacrilegious?”_

_“Nah.” He jogged back over to the other side and hopped up, joining her. “I did this a lot, on the road.” She laid back and tried to get her footing on the slippery steel, bending her knees. Baby was still nice and warm from the drive. He laid down and pulled her toward him with an arm over her shoulders, letting her lean into his side for support. She was getting used to thinking of him as her rock. “Now,” he nodded up, “That’s a view.”_

_She kept staring at him. “Yes, it is.”_

_He rubbed her shoulder and kissed her forehead. His voice turned serious._ “You’ve got to come back to us, now, Jules.”

_“What?”_

“It’s time.” _His eyes gazed into hers._ “This is probably going to hurt like hell for a few seconds.” _She closed her eyes, enjoying the tips of his fingers gliding along her cheek._

_“Dean, I don’t under…”_

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ve got to.”

_Something stabbed her in the heart and made her entire body seize for a second. Like a jackhammer, the pain vibrated everywhere and she ricocheted upright into a sitting position._

Her eyes jolted open and she gasped for air. Panic accompanied the pain and fear at whatever this thing was in her throat blocking her ability to breathe. Her fingers shot to her neck, coming into contact with a large tube instead of the expected skin. Investigating with touch, she realized it led up to her mouth. It was the thing lodged in her throat, along with smaller tubes in her nose. She tried to make sense of the white walls with the green horizontal stripe, the beeping, the monitors all around. And then, she saw Dean.

Dean sprinted past the edge of her bed - the bed with rails like a crib and wires connected to various parts of her body - heading for the open doorway. “We need some help here! Now!” He bellowed.

Another rush of heat and pain knocked her onto her back. Blood pulsed wild and loud in her brain. Her eyes closed. She drifted away. Dean’s hand covered her forehead. “Hold on, sweetheart.”

*

“Kidnapped?” The question scraped out of Julie’s throat.

Dean watched her mind attempt to process the information. Tired and spent from the rude awakening hours earlier, Julie now sat upright in the hospital bed. The antidote had worked exactly as Sam said it would. _Adrenaline straight to the heart._ Brigida dashing out of the room with a weak bladder became Dean’s opportunity to administer his own version of health care.

He’d whispered and explained what he was about to do to an unconscious Julie. He apologized right before plunging the syringe into her chest cavity. The evidence got tossed into the hazardous waste receptacle as Julie sat straight up in bed, gasping and clawing at the intubation.

The three of them, Julie, Brigida, and Dean, now experienced a lull of medical activity and attention. Julie had gone through some more tests after waking and been wheeled away for an hour. The intubation had been removed. She had been rewired and looked less like a science experiment.

Brigida sat on Julie’s right. “No more talk about what happened. You need to try to eat something.”

Julie’s fingers ran over the bed sheets. _Her brain is somewhere else._

Dean swayed from heel to toe, hands in his pockets, standing at the foot of the bed. “Want me to see if they can get you some more ice chips for that throat?”

Julie gazed up at Dean. But something was too far away and distant in her eyes for his liking. She shrugged.

“I’ll go and ask Natalie.” It was no surprise to Dean that Brigida was on a first name basis with the nurses on the floor after only a few days. She stood up and left the room, patting Dean on his elbow when she strolled past.

“Where did you find me?” Julie shifted in the bed and spoke again when they were alone. She winced and rested a hand on her chest. _Right where I basically stabbed her._

“Brigida’s right, Julie. You probably don’t need to know all the details right…”

“Where?” She squeaked out the one word.

He sighed. “Abandoned warehouse.”

Her fingers pulled at the band at the base of her hairline and tugged the ponytail free. She scratched her scalp and fussed with her waves. “I was going to go to the gym for a quick workout that morning.” The slumped posture stiffened with a groan. An attempt was made to fix her hair, combing it back with shaking fingers. She relented and leaned back. Her eyes dropped to her lap as she continued. “I-I had talked to mom… before I left the house, I saw her at the edge of the driveway, walking up. I shouldn’t have offered to drive her to the shopping center. But, I was already going there, going to the gym...”

“Hey.” Dean hurried to her side. Hands gripped the bed rails. “Don’t go blaming yourself for anything that happened.” He bent down, tried to get his face in her line of sight. A shy flutter of lids hesitated, but her eyes eventually stared back. “None of this is your fault, Jules.”

Glazed eyes blinked away tears forming as Julie spoke. “Thank you…” her breath hitched, “for finding me.”

Dean’s hardened heart cracked at the lost and vulnerable quality in Julie’s voice. He offered an upturned palm. Her cold fingers crept into its hold. He squeezed, intent on warming her. “Kind of selfish on my part. We still have to finish that date, remember?”

The first real smile he’d seen on her face in what felt like forever lined her lips. “Right now?”

He laughed. “I’ll give you some time to get right.”

“What’s wrong with how I look?” She rasped out a laugh. “How could you not want this?”

“Who says I don’t?” He shook his head in appreciation. “And, that six pack of cigs a day voice is hella sexy.” Dean turned serious. “When I mean get right…”

She nodded. “I know.”

“However long it takes.” He swallowed. “Can’t get rid of me that easy.”

Her lip twitched. “Promise?”

He smiled and squeezed her hand a little harder. “Promise.”


	11. Chapter 11

_Turns out being kidnapped and exsanguinated by a psycho is what totally puts me out of commission. Good to know what the breaking point is for future reference._

Julie sat under the covered patio. It was a bright, sunny day. The sky was that cornflower blue shade that she would have loved. _Before._ Everything now felt a little duller, muted. It was hard to explain, even to her therapist over their video sessions.

Co-workers called and left messages, wishing her well and begging her to come back to the bank as soon as she was able. _When will I be able?_ Her fuse shortened more as each day ticked off the calendar. Comments she could usually keep in her head spilled out with ease. Talkative Wes had resorted to small waves when he spotted Julie in the yard or outside. The ill-temper and crankiness even wore on her long-suffering mother. Brigida had finally given up and headed back home yesterday. No amount of pasta was going to fix Giulia.

Her eyes narrowed, alone under the patio, inspecting the Impala parked in Dean’s driveway. Julie had even been bitchy to Baby’s owner over the past two weeks. There was no rhyme or reason to it. Any time he called or stopped by, the conversations were short and stilted. She wanted to be left alone. By everyone. Even the man of her dreams. _Literally._

Out of everyone who had been blessed to experience her wrath, Dean had seemed the least unphased by it. He’d do his check-ins daily, leaving a voicemail if she didn’t pick up. A long string text conversation he’d been having with himself was more proof on her phone of his continuous efforts to reach out. The bad jokes didn’t stop in person either it turned out. Every time she ushered him out a door he’d spin around and flash her the smile that had curled her toes. _Before._

The therapist defined what Julie was doing as emotional avoidance. She didn’t want reminders of what had happened, which was understandable and the way most people tried to cope after a traumatic event. Unfortunately, Dean was the very walking reminder of the event in question since he’d been the one to save her. Numbness was avoidance’s partner in crime. And all the effort she was putting into circumventing everything was exhausting. No energy. No interest. She felt like a flat soda with a pitiful fizzle when you twisted the cap.

And then, there was the other thing gnawing at Julie. The other reason she’d been avoiding Dean. The thing that she hesitated to mention to her therapist until her second follow up session.

She’d dreamed of Dean while she was unconscious. No. Dreamed wasn’t really an accurate description. Because none of the dreams she’d ever had _before_ compared to what she’d experienced.

_I lived my life with Dean. For what felt like months._

That life was a technicolor masterpiece. A 70mm film on an IMAX screen. It was bright and vivid. Every frame, aspect of her Director’s cut only put this real life to shame; it was a grainy indie film at best. And most especially, Dean had been in almost every scene. Well, Dean but not really Dean. A perfect archetype had formed in her head of this man. He was loving, affectionate, caring, funny, understanding, thrilling, sexy, fulfilling, and made sure she orgasmed every goddamn time. And there had been many orgasms in that film. _Definitely Rated M for Mature._ How was she supposed to reconcile all of that with the actual man who had to have some damn flaw?

_To be fair, he’d already given me way too much to build up in my head. It’s all his fault. Yeah, the man rescues me and it’s all his fault. Perfect sense there, Jules._

And, maybe even more important - she had felt absolutely no fear in that other life. She’d been safe with Dean. That was something she knew was an impossibility in the here and now. Kidnappers and psychos aside, there would always be that fear, deep down, that Julie wouldn’t be good enough for anyone to love. Not for very long, anyway, and especially not for forever. And especially not by Dean.

What was she supposed to do? Exposure to things that made her happy, or used to make her happy, was the therapist’s suggestion. Constant exposure. And, blocking Dean out of her life because of the possibility he might disappoint her? Would she really be alright with never knowing how things might turn out with him? Did she really never want to take a chance on love again? Was that a well-rounded life or living in constant defense mode? That was the question the therapist left her with at the end of their session that morning.

She sighed and stared at the computer screen after the call. Being clean made her happy, so she forced herself under the shower sprays and then dressed in a comfy pair of leggings and light sweater. Wavy long hair left loose to air dry after a quick comb through with a hair pick. A spritz of her favorite perfume filled her nose with a mix of fruity and floral scents. She decided some natural source of Vitamin D could only help. Grabbing a blueberry muffin, Julie wandered around in the yard munching away on the snack. The sun warmed her head and shoulders. She even tried not to scare Wes away and let him ramble about his garden.

So, now she sat, staring at Baby through her chain link fence. Thinking about her owner. The thoughts weren’t enough to bring her joy. _Which is the craziest shit. All I had to do before was picture the man and… boom… ear to ear smile._

A ringing from her phone got her attention. _Dean._ She hesitated. The fear flooded into her veins and she was unable to push it away. _Constant exposure._ She swallowed. And answered.

“Julie?” The shock in his voice was obvious.

“Yeah.”

“I-I didn’t think you’d pick up. Was going to leave a knock knock joke on your voicemail.” He chuckled, hesitant.

She sighed. “Let’s hear it.”

Silence. Then, throat clearing. “Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Tank.”

“Tank who?”

“You’re welcome.”

She cringed. “That’s so bad. It’s almost good.” She could feel the right side of her lip twitch up in… _Jesus, could it be a smile?_

“I thought it was pretty good. How are you?”

_The dreaded question._ “I don’t know.”

“Hm. That’s good.”

“Good?” She felt her nose wrinkle up.

“Better than you saying fine when it’s obvious you aren’t. I mean, you always look…”

Julie cut him off. “You shouldn’t have to try and dig yourself out of a hole you didn’t create, Dean. This reaction I’ve been having... It’s all me.”

He was quiet for a few seconds. “We all cope differently. I hit the bottle more than I should. I don’t suggest that by the way. I’m hardly the poster child for emotional stability.”

She laughed, surprising herself. She felt lighter in that moment.

“It’s nice to hear that, sweetheart.” His voice deepened, even more than she thought was possible, at the last word.

Her insides vibrated, like she was a guitar string he’d plucked at with his fingers. _Those fingers, those hands. The things you’ve done to me with those hands. Well, not you, actually. Dammit, Jules!_ “I really like that nickname.” She confessed.

“Yeah? Well, I’ll try and use it more often, then.” He sighed. “You are, though. A sweetheart. Even when you’re bitchy.”

Julie chuckled. “Thanks, hot stuff.”

He clicked his tongue. “I’m still on the fence about that one.” Movement in one of Dean’s windows got her attention. There he stood perfectly framed like a picture from the torso up. The filtering of the screen hazed up her view more than she liked. His gaze wandered over to the patio, landed on her, and surprise washed over his face. “You’re outside?”

She shrugged, staring at him as they continued to talk on the phone. “Figured I’d try and snap out of this funk.”

“But, you’re outside. The only time I’ve seen you out is when you’ve been spying on me.” She could still make out the smirk through the screen.

“My therapist has suggested doing things that make me happy.”

“Good advice.” He nodded, serious. “Hm.”

Julie watched him thinking.

“So, I’ve um, got to take care of something out back. You gonna be around for a bit?”

“Yes.” She dragged out the word.

“Good.” He ended the call and gave her a wink before disappearing.

She stared at the empty window. _Out back._ She inventoried both their lawns, which he’d mowed only yesterday. A frown formed and she berated herself for missing that show. _Hey, being upset that I missed drooling over the man, in real life, is a good sign._ A swipe of her phone’s screen had her reading through Dean’s incoherent messaging over the past few days. _My hero._ It sounded super corny even in her head. But it was true. She couldn’t deny it.

_I’ve got you. You’re safe with me, Jules._ She thought back to the night when they’d begun to explore each other. _Before._ The things he did to her body. _The Real Dean._ The naughty commands he eagerly followed and the sexual directives he’d wanted, but never got the chance to dole out. This man, who made her throb and ache, wanted to make her feel safe through all of it. Everything. _Point, Real Dean._

A sound she identified as Dean’s front door closing broke her out of her heated reminiscing. His tall figure appeared, strolled over to Baby, and dropped a red bucket by one of her wheel rims. He rubbed his hands together and turned his back to where Julie was sitting. He crossed arms over his chest and inspected the car from hood to trunk with a slow, methodical stare. There was the tell-tale squeak of Baby’s driver side door when he opened it.

Julie watched, a bit perplexed that he hadn’t even looked over to where she was sitting when he came out. _It’s almost like he’s…_ Julie grinned and noted the way Dean leaned into the interior of the car. He widened his bowleg stance, then bent down so the denim hugged the curves of his perfect ass. She heard the key turn in the ignition. Baby’s stereo played a song from his extensive playlist at a respectable volume.

He stood up, closed the car door and stretched; arms raised high above his head. Only a flimsy white t-shirt covered his torso. And it was short enough that when he stretched and then scratched at his side, she got a nice long look at his muscled belly. He smiled to himself and walked into the shed. Julie’s eyes widened in revelation. _He’s putting on a goddam show for me. Point, Real Dean._

“Hey, Julie.” She gasped at the unexpected interruption by Wes. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

She placed a hand to her cheek and felt the warmth. “Yeah. I’m good. No apology necessary.”

Wes nodded. “I was- I was wondering if Mamma might need another couple tomato plants for her garden. We bought way too many to plant and…” He placed a bedding tray with two starter plants left inside.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure she can do…”

“Mornin’ Wes.” Dean’s voice had them both turn in his direction. He gave Wes a salute, a neatly wrapped hose draped over his shoulder. Something about the scene felt very Deja Vu to Julie. _Holy shit. This happened with Fake Dean. Except, I ended up helping him wash the car. There was water and suds and…_ Her mouth dried up. _He made me cum in Baby’s backseat._

“Oh, hey, Dean. What’s goin’ on?” Wes waved.

_Fucking tease. He’s really full on ignoring me._

“Great day to wash a car.” He offered a smile.

“It is.” Wes and his obliviousness to social cues kind of reminded her of Cas now that she thought about it. The fact that Dean had not spoken to Julie didn’t even seem to register to him. Wes turned back to Julie. “Well, I’ll just leave these with you.”

Julie side-eyed Dean now crouched down attaching the hose to the spigot by the side of the house. “Thanks. I’ll try not to kill them in the short amount of time they’re in my care.” She smiled.

Wes smiled and walked off. _Samuel must have told him to make the visit short and sweet._

Dean raised up and wiped a palm on his ass, leaving a wet handprint on the light-colored denim. He grabbed the nozzle and shot a steady stream of water in Baby’s direction. There was that beautiful profile, serious and down to business, soaking his precious car in sheets of water.

Julie smiled. _I’ve died and gone to heaven._

After about thirty minutes of delightful torture, Dean’s intentional avoidance (of which the irony only irked Julie more), and the increasing summer heat, she’d had about enough. She couldn’t say what made her finally snap. Maybe it happened when his entire upper body ended up drenched. His shirt stuck and clung to his body in X-rated ways. _Samuel would be all about judging this wet t-shirt contest._ Maybe it happened when he sponged and sudsed all of Baby up with long, languid strokes. Bending and reaching, muscles and all his pretty parts on full display.

_No. I’m pretty sure it happened when he lifted up his t-shirt to wipe his face and gave me the chance to see that chest of his._

Julie stood up and marched over to the fence, twisting her now dry hair with one hand and tossing it behind her shoulder. She waited, patient as she could, while Dean wiped off the last little bit of water from Baby’s rims. He took his time, knelt and focused on the task, and made her shine.

“Hey.” She threw the call out to him. But he didn’t hear her. Or at least pretended he didn’t. She tried again, a little louder. “Dean!” He stood up, opened the driver’s side door, then clicked off the music. The door clicked shut and he strolled over to the spigot. She sighed and tried one more time. “Hot stuff!”

He froze in mid-step at that. His neck cocked in her direction along with an eyebrow.

She grinned and crossed arms over her chest. “Do you have a second?”

Dean tilted his head and walked over. Her insides crumbled the closer he got. Sunshine glistened off his skin from the combination of water and sweat. He flashed her a smile. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering if I could get your help with something.” She pursed her lips.

“Sure.” He rubbed his hands together. “What do you need?”

She pointed a thumb behind her. “In the house?”

He looked downright intrigued at the question. “Alright.” He cleared his throat and pried the wet shirt a few inches off his chest with both hands. “Give me, like, five minutes so I can clean up out here and get out of these…”

“Can’t wait.” She shook her head.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Sure, sweetheart.” His hands tightened over the fence rail.

Julie anticipated his next move and stepped backward. She didn’t wait to see him hop over and quickstepped her body to the sliding door. The sound of him landing on the ground and his strides along the yard sped up her heart. The reaction wasn’t fear. She was… _happy._

She opened the door and stepped inside. “Julie.” The call of her name was hesitant. A turn caught him near the entryway. “I don’t want to track a whole bunch of mess into your clean house. Brigida would kill me.”

_Thoughtful and sexy, with a side of self-preservation. Smart man._ “Leave your shoes outside?” She offered and slipped out of her own flats, sweeping them out of the way with a bare foot. “You aren’t going to need them.”

Dean smirked. “I just don’t want to get in trouble later.” He toed off the sneakers and hopped up into the living room. The door slid shut.

“Does that mean you want to get in trouble now?”

He chuckled and marched closer. “Feeling better, I take it?”

“A little. You helped take my mind off certain things.”

“Good.” He held out an open palm.

She slid her fingers over the damp, pink skin and commented, “You’re all wet.”

“That’s my line.” She laughed at his retort. “And, I wanted to change. But, someone was insistent that they needed my help with... something.” Sock-covered toes curled into the area rug. His fingers threaded in between hers. “What do you need, sweetheart?”

Her breath hitched and the sobbing erupted out of nowhere, without warning.

Dean’s eyes widened. He pulled her forward, into his warm, wet embrace. She clutched at his back. “You’re okay now, Jules.” A soft and husky voice whispered through the kisses he placed on top of her head. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you like that again. Not while I’m around.”

“You can’t be around me 24/7.” She tossed out the fact when her breathing had normalized.

“Well, then, we give you some tools and tricks so you feel safer when I’m not. Little bit at a time. One step in front of the other, right?”

She shrugged into his arms and sniffled. “Dean?”

“That’s me.”

She smiled into the wet cotton. “There’s something else.”

“Okay.” There was that hesitancy in his voice again. She hadn’t remembered hearing that tone from his voice as often. _Before._

The rumble and soft hiccups of breath from her mouth vibrated through the shirt to the warm skin. “I had every intention of having you... right here… in the middle of this living room… and, then…”

Those large hands circled along curves hidden under the thin sweater. The motion was soothing and arousing. “Then what?”

“Being this close to you... My body usually has a mind of its own and reacts in a very… pleasant way…”

“Mm-hmm.” He kissed her forehead.

“But, sometimes, now… there’s fear, too…”

His body tensed.

She held tight, feeling him pull away because of the statement. “No. No. It’s not you, or anything you’ve done.” Her lips tasted the cotton of his shirt, burrowing into his chest in defiance of his attempt to detach. “You were the only one that was there, that found me, when I was…” Her nails dragged down the fabric covering taut muscles. “If I ever ask you for the whole story, all that you saw, what you had to do to save me, would you tell me?”

The exhale from Dean over her head was drawn out, complicit. “If it was going to help you, yes.” She tapped his ass, innocent in the attempt and insistent on the need for a different answer. He whispered a comical gasp in surprise. “Hey now.”

“If I ask you, would you tell me? Regardless of how much you think you know what’s best for me, even more than I do? I already had ten years of that bullshit.” She pulled away to stare up at him. Needing to verify his words with the scales of truth hidden in fields of glowing grass. Those things he dared to convince others were merely eyes with the added cocky grin. “Would you tell me the truth just because I asked you to?”

His hands cupped her face. He smiled and searched every inch with his gaze. The eyes finally locked with hers. Her heart stumbled over a few beats. “Yes.”

“And will you tell me the truth, always, even without me having to ask?”

Fingers tightened their grip along her jawline. “Sweetheart, are you proposing to me?” He raised a brow, “Or, is this me proposing to you?”

Julie shook her head, fighting every cell in her body turning to jello at the charm and the words dripping from pompous, delectable, way too full of themselves lips. “Answer the question, Dean-ah.”

Dean’s voice and expression hitched back in surprise. “Did you just Brigida me?” She stomped a foot and he chuckled. “Yes, Julie.” The tone lost any jovial remnants. “I will always tell you the truth.”

Her heart lightened again.

Dean’s forehead pressed against hers. “Even if it hurts.” He sighed. “You enjoy the good stuff more when you go through pain to earn it. What I’ve come to learn, anyway.” Julie’s mouth tilted up, Dean’s mouth tilted down, their motions working in tandem like connected gears. She found his open lips, ready and willing to receive the something between lashing and adoration she was desperate to inflict.

Plump lips glided over hers. He moaned at the insistence of her tongue, licking and tasting the fleshy underside of his lips - _those damn lips_ \- along his teeth. Fingers hooked around the back of her neck and pulled her higher, elongating her frame. She lifted onto tippy toes to maintain the glorious contact.

“Jules.” He groaned and peeled her mouth away with a soft tug at the base of her hairline. A small huff pushed through her open mouth. He licked his lips. “I’m super glad you want to try and work through this.” She smiled at his out of breath state. “Super glad.” He repeated and swiped the pad of a thumb along her bottom lip. “But, if it gets to be too much and you need to stop…”

“I’m not going to need to stop. I want to feel good with you.” She whispered.

A tiny whine escaped his throat. He dropped his brows. “Shit. Right now?”

She nodded.

He huffed but couldn’t hide his smile of anticipation. “Alright, sweetheart. But, you can’t order from the full Dean menu. Maybe just the Happy Meal. I’ve got to go and meet up with Cas and Jack in, like,” he glanced at his watch, “shit, in like a half hour.”

She shrugged. “Happy’s good. That usually comes with a toy, anyway.”

“Ah. So, I’m your toy now?” He clicked his teeth together, then licked her lips with a light stroke of his tongue. “First, it’s ‘hot stuff’.” Another lick. “Then, you’re spanking me.” A tiny shake of his head before another lick. “Now, I’m just some plaything.”

“I’d tell you to shut up... let me continue to objectify you... but I really do love that voice of yours.” Julie shot back between his licks.

His lips curled into a smile. “So, we doin’ this right here?” He nodded to the sliding doors and the open curtains. “Put on a little show for the neighbors?”

“Oh, I can’t put on as good a show like the one you gave me earlier.” Her heartbeat sped up.

“I doubt that. I’ve seen the previews.” He stepped backward and pulled at one hand. “Upstairs?” She nodded. He guided back to the bedroom. The door clicked closed. “So, where were we before?” He smirked. “Sit that cute ass on the bed.” He half-asked, half-commanded.

She did as told, tucking hands under the back of her thighs in wait. “I thought I was going to get to place an order.”

“If we had more time, sure.” He stalked toward her, pulling the damp shirt up and over his head. She swallowed and took in the bare skin of his chest, the ripples of muscle underneath. All of it in the glorious sunlight shafting through the windows. “But, if you want to feel good with me, right now, you’ll let me do what I’ve wanted to do since I first tasted your cobbler.” He leaned over her seated frame and captured her mouth in a heated kiss.

“Wait.” She moaned into his mouth. “Please.” Her hands pushed on his shoulders. He leaned up a little more at the silent direction.

She had to feel him, run her fingers over his arms, his chest. See how this Real Dean compared to the fake one she made up. She’d missed the many scars, one a sizable trench-like cut across his tummy. There were dimples and craters. _Bullet holes?_ The hills and valleys were velvety and rough, steel and warmth. Alive and twitching under her fingers, there was even the slightest pudge and soft give to his midsection. 

_Damn, I didn’t do him justice. He’s got a roadmap of the life he’s lived on his skin._

His breath hitched above her as she explored with touch. So many questions flooded her mind. She wasn’t surprised to see the tattoo above his heart, right under the left side of his neck. Her fingers circled over the fading black ink. Never would her imagination have come up with the design - a sun with flaming rays, a star in the center. Hands slid along his sides up and around to the rigid blades of his back. A long sigh left his mouth. His eyes crinkled down at her. “You’ve gotta lie back for what I want to do.”

She acquiesced and released. The fluffy comforter billowed in the receipt. She leaned up on her elbows. “What have you wanted to do?” she asked. He straightened his posture and stepped back, unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops. The waistband of his jeans rode low over narrow hips when he unzipped. _That sweet ass is the only thing keeping them on._ Her gaze went lower. _Shit. That hard-on might be helping, too._ He cleared his throat and slid a palm along the denim over his lengthy excitement. Her mouth hung slack.

He took his time and stroked the fabric. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” An exaggerated frown matched the one she felt herself making. “I know, little miss nose crinkle. But, you’ll make me lose my train of thought if you keep staring down there. I already don’t have as much time as I want to really enjoy this.” He stepped close again. One of his legs wedged between both of hers. Hands skirted over legging-clad thighs and pushed her sweater up to brush over her stomach. Fingers hooked under the band at her waist and began to peel fabric down past her hips. Her cheeks warmed, realizing he’d caught her panties as well.

“Dean…” she groaned and fell back, lifting her hips to assist. She placed the back of her hand on her forehead and stared up at the ceiling. Embarrassment pumped through her along with arousal.

“Gonna make you feel so good. Promise.” Smoke and honey coated his voice. His fingers skimmed over her bare ass as he continued to undress her. She closed her eyes, bit her lip. He guided her legs up with his tugs. A soft swish of the leggings confirmed he’d balled and tossed them somewhere not within easy reach. “Open your eyes, sweetheart. Can’t act shy for me now.” His mouth pressed above her belly button. She gasped, opened her eyes and watched him snake his body over hers, kissing the sweater, eventually landing on her mouth again. His green eyes inventoried her face. “You like to watch me, right?”

She smiled and nodded.

“And I like it when you watch me.” He grinned and slid down. Her neck tilted to the side to track his descent. His chin grazed over her sweater and dipped into her belly button. “So, make sure you have a good view.” He licked his lips.

_Holy shit. I mean, a girl can dream and imagine that a man as hot as this likes to… that whole oral fixation theory. It made for some great material to work with when I was unconscious and in LaLa Land. But, could he really?_ “You-” She started and lifted on her elbows. Her mouth dried, and every ounce of liquid seemed to pool into her core. He was bent over, hovering inches above, and staring with great regard at her sex. On instinct her legs tried to shut, but they only managed to pinch around his sturdy, tree trunk thighs. His hands rubbed and soothed, prying her legs open.

“Relax.” He knelt next to the bedside, guided one leg over a shoulder. Warm fingers kneaded at the flesh of her thighs, edging closer to her pussy along with his mouth. He inhaled like he was identifying the subtle aromas in a glass of wine. “Damn, Jules. You smell good.” He smiled.

She was lightheaded. All the blood was definitely traveling to one spot. “Are you telling me you really like doing this?”

He raised a brow. “You gotta be specific.”

She shook her head, swallowing the giggle of self-consciousness at the sight of him between her legs. “You like going down on women?”

A snarl twitched over his lips and she thought she heard him growl. His eyes closed as his nose buried into her brown curls, right above the slit. She snatched in breath at the feel of his tongue sliding along the edge of her folds. Slow and thorough as he licked. _Holy shit. Licking me like an ice cream cone._ He dipped inside and searched, nuzzling lower to the wetness he had created. “Hm.” He groaned. The vibrations skirting over her sex made her shiver.

Dean’s mouth worked Julie over. She became enthralled by the absolute bliss he was portraying. He was a damn good actor if he wasn’t enjoying it. There was no awkwardness or held breath. No need for constant reassurance that he was doing it right. No inner countdown working in his head to pay back whatever sexual act he thought she was owed in return. His closed lids showcased long, beautiful lashes. They fluttered open like butterfly wings when his name escaped her mouth. His bright green eyes, sparkling in the sunlight, locked onto her face. _Gorgeous son of a bitch._ He licked toward her clit. A warm forearm draped over her tummy. His palm pushed and maneuvered with gentle pressure, so her lips literally opened up for him, like a blooming flower. He broke contact from her with his tongue. His gaze dropped. Now, a thumb and forefinger assisted, and even she could see hints of the pink, wet flesh of her walls and clit from her vantage. She was on absolute full fucking display. “Shit.” she whimpered.

He grinned. “You’re pretty everywhere, sweetheart.” The pad of his thumb brushed over her clit hood, peeling it back. She fell back and gasped. He blew on the sensitive collection of nerve endings. “I don’t have to ask you if it feels good. I can taste how good you feel.” Another gasp from Julie as the tip of his tongue delved down into the source of her wetness again. He spread the slick over her walls with a slow and languid lick. All the way up to her clit.

“Fuck, Dean.”

He hummed against her, then spoke. “Eyes on me, baby. You’re going to miss the show.”

She sighed, trying to lift herself up on forearms and biceps that quaked in response to every little thing he was doing. “You’re going to kill me.”

A large hand wrapped around the thigh draped over his shoulder. A deep chuckle rattled her insides. “I’m being gentle on you.”

“This is you being gentle?” She licked her lips, unconsciously mimicking him.

“You ready?” He grinned.

“No.” She shook her head. “But, don’t stop.”

“Famous last words.” He kissed her clit and her body arched up, or at least tried to under his palm and forceful restraint. “Need to hear you, watch you come undone.”

She moaned and nodded. His lips closed over the bud and began to suck with a steady, unyielding pressure. He gazed up, his cheeks hollowing at his ministrations. “Yes, Dean.” She whispered. Then his tongue got in on the action, licking the nub as he sucked. He was plucking some invisible nerve. Her entire body ticked and jerked. “Fuck.” Her voice whined and rose higher.

He moaned in approval, eyes never leaving her face. Narrowing lids encouraged her to let go. She bucked under him, but he held her tight in place.

“Oh, God, Dean. I’m- I’m…”

He tore his mouth from her. “Are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Say it.” He groaned. Her eyes widened as he walked his fingers along her folds, felt him circle one into her juices, and slathered her clit with the wetness. His thumb took over the assault. “Come on, baby.”

The ticking was back. “I’m gonna cum for you.”

He worked her faster. Her body tensed. He was on literal fire, his body so warm against her. She struggled to stare at him. His face full of lust and primal need, urging her to the edge with that commanding voice. “Yeah, that’s it. I wanna see how pretty you look when you cum for me. Gonna lick you clean. Come on, baby. All of it. Just for me.”

She whined, one last time. “Fuck!” Her brain snapped into a million pieces and a rush of electricity thundered through her entire body.

He moaned and let her ride out the wave, no longer torturing her clit. She watched, shuddering through the tension as he lapped at her release. “Hm. Taste so fucking good.”

She shivered. The inevitable over sensitivity washed over her. He sensed it. _Of course he fucking did._ Drew back on his knees, rocked up to stand, and then tumbled beside her on the bed. She tried to catch her breath.

He waited, perching himself on an elbow to stare down. He smiled.

“Jesus.” She managed.

“You really needed that.” He placed a hand on her hip. “And, I really liked that.”

Another shiver. “You can’t be real.”

“I’m misdirecting you with all my charm and expertise.” He shrugged.

She turned into him. Her eyes wandered over his chest and down to his jeans. The flap of his open zipper revealed some curly golden-brown hair. His erection looked ready to spring out of the denim with the slightest shift of his body. She smiled. “Did you go commando?”

“I was washing Baby.” Another shrug. “Didn’t think I’d be here, doing this.” His brows raised. “Not that I’m at all complaining.”

Her hand rested on the dip in his side right above his hip. His skin shivered. “You’re going to be complaining if you don’t let me take care of that.” She nodded to his lap.

He sighed. “No time, sweetheart.” He sat up and groaned.

“Of course there’s time.” She rose as well.

“I told you. Not for what I want to do.” His fingers traveled through her hair. He kissed her soft and sweet. She moaned at the taste of herself on his lips. He smirked into the kiss and let his tongue slide into her open mouth. He pulled away and kissed her forehead. “Next time I cum, it’s going to be inside you. And, I’m taking my fucking time.”

His matter of fact statement made her blush. “Okay.” she replied.

He stood up and inspected her, zipping up his jeans in obvious discomfort. “What are you doing the rest of today? Besides staying home and thinking way too much?”

Being under his gaze, lying half naked, heated her up again. An attempt at some modesty had her cross legs and tug the sweater over hips. She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“This is probably a very bad idea. But, did you want to come with me?”

“To see Cas and Jack?”

He nodded and found his t-shirt on the floor. When his head poked through the neck of the shirt, he continued. “Jack and Cas are on speaking terms again.” Julie pondered whether actually speaking to Cas was a real possibility. “We were going to go to the festival in the city to celebrate.”

“Do you mean the Italian festival? St. Anthony’s?”

He nodded. “That’s right around your old stomping grounds, isn’t it?”

“Yep. God, I haven’t gone to that in ages.”

He smiled. “So, come along. Like I said, I’ll probably regret it. What with Cas… but, you can see what I have to deal with on a regular basis.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

She smiled. _Real Dean. All the fucking points._


	12. Chapter 12

Dean called Cas and told him he was running late. And that Julie would be coming to the festival as well. “Another date?” Cas asked. _I guess this is another date. Doing everything out of goddamn order again. What’s new?_ After a lengthy list of what Cas and Jack shouldn’t discuss or bring up, Cas ended the call with, “I guess that only leaves the weather. When it doesn’t directly relate to signs of an impending Apocalypse, of course.” _Smart ass._

Dean drove round to pick up Julie in Baby, freshly washed and rumbling for attention. He rolled up her driveway and stopped at the edge of the front walkway. She hopped off the front stoop wearing faded jean shorts and a white t-shirt that read “Italians Do It Better” in green, white, and red block letters. He caught that cute little skip she usually only did when she thought no one was watching. A high ponytail bounced to match the lightness in her steps. Sun reflected off the large brown lenses of her sunglasses. She leaned into the open passenger side window.

_Looks like a fucking college girl._ Dean mentally cursed at his cock for springing to attention. _And I’m acting like a fucking horny teenager._

“You clean up real nice.” Dean cleared his throat.

She smiled. “So do you.”

“Hop in, sweetheart. I don’t want to have to speed this time.”

She laughed and climbed in. “I don’t think my heart can handle another one of those drives.”

He reversed down the driveway. “Just don’t want to disappoint Jack and get there too late.”

A frown stared back at him after she fastened her lap belt. “You can blame me.”

“I don’t want to have to explain _why_ you’re to blame.” He grinned.

“Fair enough.” She crossed those legs that reminded Dean of a 50s pinup girl. _Nice and curvy in all the right places._ Her attention turned toward her open window. The breeze played with the wispy hairs she hadn’t wrangled into the ponytail. She pulled at a strand that got caught in her candy apple red lipstick. Dean licked his lips. _How does acting like a horny teenager differ from me acting like my usual, horny adult self?_

“I’m glad you said yes to coming out with me, us.” Dean tried to revert to some neutral conversation.

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“There are a couple rules, though.” He smiled.

“Rules? Wow. Do I need to walk six feet behind you at the festival? If so, you can drive me right back home.” She pursed her lips.

He raised a hand. “Okay, rules was the wrong word. More like warnings, I guess.”

Her arms were crossed now. “That doesn’t sound any better.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I stick my foot in my mouth. A lot.”

“I haven’t noticed, which is odd considering how much I stare at your mouth.” She shot back in a sarcastic and seductive tone.

_Damn. Not helping me focus here, Jules._

“You’ve met Cas. And, Jack is sort of a chip off the old block. But, a little better adjusted.” _Turns out a five-year-old Nephilim has better social interaction and communication skills than a two-thousand year old angel. Who’d have thought?_

“Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.” She nodded.

Dean raised a finger. “One thing he always wants, though, is to ride shotgun in Baby.”

“I have no problem being relegated to the back seat. I probably won’t get as queasy.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Is that a shot at my driving?”

She grinned and looked back out the window.

“Hm.” Dean turned up the volume on the stereo a little more to compete with the wind for the rest of the drive.

*

The expected awkwardness occurred once Dean arrived at Cas’s house. Cas forgot to invite them in after announcing he needed a couple more minutes and instead shut the door in their faces. Dean shrugged. “Sorry.”

Julie laughed. “It’s fine.” She turned and wandered down the path to look up at the cottage front. “It looks like a cute place from the outside.” Dean joined her, standing close enough to sniff the perfume she wore. “Is he worried I might find the dead bodies he’s hiding in there?”

A nervous laugh bubbled up from Dean. “Two guys, you know, the place can get messy.”

The door opened and Jack walked out, closing the door behind him. “Dean.” Jack smiled from ear to ear. He strolled with that goal oriented, mission style of his.

Dean patted him on the shoulder. “Hey, Jack. This is Julie.”

He tilted his head to Julie and outstretched his hand. “Hi, Julie. Nice to meet you.”

Julie removed her sunglasses and offered Jack a warm smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Cas’ll be out in a minute. I love festivals.”

Julie’s eyes widened. “Do you?”

“Yes, especially this one. It’ll be the second year in a row we’ve gone to the Italian Festival. Did you know Saint Anthony of Padua is the patron saint of lost things?”

Dean held back a sigh.

She nodded. “I did, actually. I went to Saint Anthony’s elementary school. We learned a lot of things about him.”

“Does it actually work?”

Dean watched Julie try and track the conversation with her eyes. “Does what actually work?”

“Praying to him to help you find something you lost?”

“My mom would say yes. I’m not quite convinced.” She smiled.

“Are you Catholic? Since you went to a Catholic school.” Jack started his interrogation.

“Whoa, easy tiger.” Dean interrupted. “Remember what we said about politics and religion?”

Jack thought for a moment. “Don’t bring them up if you can help it?”

Dean winked.

Cas slammed the door and jolted the three of them where they stood. He marched to the tiny group and nodded. “Hello again, Julie. Lovely weather we’re having.”

_Smart ass._

*

Julie turned out to be exactly the insider Dean needed when they drove through Little Italy. She navigated him around the tiny side streets. They found a parking spot beside a line of row homes. Dean began to parallel park Baby into the tight area.

“You hate parking your car on a city street.” Cas reminded Dean, seated next to Julie in the back.

He turned around to glance between the two of them through the rear windshield as he reversed. “Yeah, well, I hate paying twenty bucks to park in a lot even more.” He smiled at Julie. “I should take you with me everywhere.”

He couldn’t see the reaction in her eyes shielded by the sunglasses, but her cheeks reddened.

“That doesn’t sound like a feasible request, Dean.” Cas turned to Julie. “You have your own life and daily obligations, correct?”

Jack sighed. “He’s flirting, Cas.”

Dean shook his head and righted himself in the seat to finish parking. “Think I can borrow you a bit longer, Julie, so you can direct us on foot the rest of the way?” He side-eyed Cas. “Alright if I ask her that?”

Cas nodded. “That seems fine.”

Julie laughed.

*

The four city blocks around Saint Anthony’s school and church were decorated with Italian flag streamers draped from every available electricity and streetlight pole. The streets were flooded with a river of people. Cas and Jack had disappeared into the two blocks comprising the fairgrounds a half hour ago.

The aroma of sauce and grease and beer had been too much for Dean. He asked for Julie’s opinion on what to try. She suggested a panzerotti and vinegar coated French fries. Her memory did not falter as she parted through the bodies to the food stand she had in mind. She told Dean she frequented this one often as a pudgy kid. After waiting in line for ten minutes, they searched for a place to sit.

Dean and Julie deposited their red and white paper food trays and large beer cups at one of a dozen picnic benches under a tent. The festival goers around them were enjoying a band’s rendition of an Italian folk song.

Dean sat and inspected the panzerotti. “What is this again?”

Julie placed her glasses on the tabletop, rubbed her hands together and leaned in close to him. “Deep fried dough with a molten, delicious mix of sauce and mozzarella inside. It’s like a Stromboli bomb. I’d tell you to be careful, but there’s no way around it. First bite’s gonna burn no matter what.” She grinned. “So good. You’ll need that beer.”

Dean smiled and tore into the panzerotti. The contents seared his lips and mouth. “H-H-Hot!” He exclaimed and chugged down some beer. He swallowed and sighed. “Awesome.”

She laughed, nibbled at the corner of the treat in her hand, then fanned her mouth. “I can’t believe they’re allowed to sell these without someone signing a waiver first.”

Dean chuckled and blew on his snack, shoveling a couple French fries in while he waited for it to cool down. He noted the families and crowds, the conversations and music swarming all around. It felt stuffy, the heat of the nearby stands cooking and frying trapped under the tent. “This wasn’t as much fun last year. I basically just stood in the center of the fairgrounds with Cas while Jack hit every single ride. Three times each at least.”

Julie smiled. “Don’t they know how much you love food?”

“Oh, they do. But, it was more about giving Jack the chance to experience it, you know? And, helping Cas through it.”

She picked at the dough with her fingers and munched with care. “They both seem nice. But, what’s their deal? I don’t know many kids that call their parents by their first name.”

_How do I always tell her the truth, now, without telling her everything._ “Jack didn’t start living with Cas until a couple years ago. So, the dad/son thing is still kinda new for both of them.”

“Divorce?”

“He was never married to Jack’s mom.”

Julie nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s tough all around.” Dean watched her as he took another bite. He cringed at the hot sauce hitting his tongue and the expression on her face that was leading to another question. “So, you said you knew Cas for a long time. Did you two come to Delaware together? Did he work with you and your brother?”

He chewed, thinking. “He’s helped here and there over the years. When business slowed… I knew Cas would be lost for a while. I got my footing and told him this would be as good a place as any for him to start over with Jack.” The look she gave made him self-conscious. He patted a scratchy napkin around his mouth. “I’m covered in panzerotti, aren’t I?”

She shook her head, lids blinking slow, taking him in. “No. You’re all about saving people, huh?”

He smiled at her wistful expression. “Kind of hard to shake, I guess.”

“Julie!”

Dean cocked his head to the other side of the picnic bench at the call.

Julie’s eyes widened. “Maggie! How are you?”

“Good. Haven’t seen you in forever!” The tiny brunette was pushing a stroller. A passed-out toddler covered in chocolate ice cream stains swayed in the seat.

_Hm. Should share some ice cream with Jules after this. I bet she likes sprinkles._

Maggie’s big blue eyes surveyed Dean. He nodded at the acknowledgement. She looked back over to Julie. “How are you? Visiting your mom? How’s she?”

“I’m good.” Julie stated. Dean noticed her posture stiffen, putting a little more distance between them on the bench. _This isn’t a “nice to see you again” situation._ “Um, mom’s good. I see you have another little one.” She smiled and motioned to the child.

Maggie beamed back and pushed the stroller back and forth with one hand, on autopilot. Dean caught a weariness and exhaustion in Maggie’s smile. “Yeah. Davey, Jr. Just turned two a couple weeks ago. Dave’s grabbing some food with Madison. I think the last time I saw you was at the Flower Market years back. Maddie was four maybe.”

Julie nodded and smiled. _Tight lipped and on guard. Yeah, she’s not one to give a lot of info to just anybody._

“I’d met your husband, Steve? How’s he?”

_And there it is._

Julie cleared her throat and shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. We, um, we’re divorced.”

Maggie clutched her chest. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

Julie shook her head at Maggie. “Of course you didn’t. Or, you wouldn’t have asked.” She turned and looked at him, her eyes screaming _SAVE ME_. “This is Dean.”

Dean whipped out his best smile and nodded again. “Hi there, Maggie.”

Maggie fiddled with her hair. “Hi.”

“Hey, Mag. I found Rich and the crew over by the grandstand. They’re saving us seats.” A tall, tubby man saddled up behind Maggie. He held a tray filled with grease and sweets and sipped on a huge soda cup.

“Where’s Madison?” Maggie looked over her shoulder.

“Caught up with some school friends. Gave her the last of the tickets.”

“Dave, do you remember Julie? She was in our class at St. Anthony’s.”

The blue eyes scrunched together under a low riding ball cap. A long slurp and then recognition followed. He pointed with the soda cup. “Julie Jelly Belly! First in the lunch line, last to get picked for Dodgeball.”

Maggie smacked her husband’s rather pronounced beer belly. Dean swore he heard some liquid slosh around in there. Julie’s face reddened. _What a dick._

“What?” Dave asked with a shrug, then slurped again.

Maggie shook her head.

Dave gave Julie a leering once over. “You look great now.”

Dean leaned into Julie and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Amazing how some people just get better with age.” He made sure Dave heard his voice, loud and clear, above all the noise.

Dave’s vacant expression was the only response he got back.

“Well, we’ve got to go. But, it was great seeing you!”

Julie waved.

The couple wandered off. Dean watched Maggie smack Dave on the back once they were out of earshot.

Julie laughed. “God, sometimes I forget how little some people change. And I had a crush on him back in school.”

“On that?” Dean frowned. He pulled Julie closer.

“He was cute back then. Still a dick, but cute.”

“I wouldn’t have been a dick to you.” He whispered in her ear.

Julie pulled away to stare at him. She looked like she’d sucked on a lemon.

“I wouldn’t have.” He repeated. “I was never the popular kid. We moved around too much for me to make a name for myself. I hated guys like that.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have noticed me, I’m sure.” She shook her head. “And, that’s okay.” She smiled. “You notice me now.”

He lifted his chin and looked down his nose at her. “Well, I definitely wouldn’t have picked on you. I protected Sammy from asshats like that. Gave them a proper beat down or wedgie when they deserved it.”

“Sammy had a good big brother.” She grinned. “Finish your panzerotti. We’re going to go take a walk through the fairgrounds next.”

He nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

*

At some point during their carnival exploration, Dean’s fingers had interlocked with hers. It may have been so he didn’t lose her in the crowd and pulled her through a massive bottleneck. But once he did it, feeling the warmth and tight grip she returned, he went back to hold her hand throughout the late afternoon that stretched into early evening.

“Aw, this is my game!” He fished a couple bucks out of his pocket and sat on a spinny steel stool attached to a makeshift plywood floor. “Want to try?”

“I’m not very good at shooting games.”

He tapped the stool next to him and placed the buy-in on the counter for them both. “Humor me, sweetheart.”

Julie sighed and sat. The game attendant swiped up the cash and flicked on their mounted water guns. “Step right up and take a chance!”

Dean tested the turning radius of his weapon. A tween sat to his right. He passed the time as they waited for two more contestants and spun in his seat toward Julie. “Just have to breathe into it beforehand. Get your sight level and don’t squeeze the trigger until the buzzer goes off.”

She smiled and nodded, leaning down to try and line the gun up with the bullseye target directly in front of her spot. Her sunglasses rested in the collar of her shirt. From Dean’s perspective, she seemed to be enjoying the time with him.

“Dean!” Cas’s deep baritone startled him out of staring at Julie. He marched up and stood between their stools in his pale green button up and khaki cargo pants. “We’re almost out of tickets.”

“Are you asking me for money to buy more?” Dean raised an eyebrow. Jack was on Julie’s left and they chatted.

“Of course not. I have my own earnings. I just wanted to make you aware that we’ll probably be done soon and ready to leave.”

“Well, we need two more players.” He nodded to the empty spots next to Julie. “Why don’t you and Jack give it a try?”

Jack shrugged and sat next to Julie.

Cas looked at the attendant. “What’s the hoped for outcome if one wants to win?”

The wrinkled man pointed to the horses at the left of the huge game display. “You get your horse to the other side first.”

“Fair enough.” Cas wandered over next to Jack.

“Alright.” Dean smacked his hands together. “Game on!”

*

“That kid cheated.” Dean mumbled, marching away from the game seven minutes later. He had Julie by his side, hands locked together again. “No way he won three games in a row fair and square.” Jack and Cas caught up to his gait on his left.

“His reflexes and speed could just be better because…”

Cas put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I advise you to stop talking now.”

Dean cocked his head to see Julie grinning. “Did you find all that amusing, Jules?” He tried not to grin back.

She stopped in the middle of the path and looked upward. Dean, Jack, and Cas all halted in a delayed response. “Hey Cas, how many tickets do you have left?”

“Eight.”

“Could we all go on that?” She pointed up to the three-story high Ferris wheel in the middle of the fairgrounds. The massive steel spoked frame was decorated in what looked like thousands of multicolored lights.

“I’m not opposed to it.” Cas replied.

Julie stared at Dean and squeezed his hand. He sighed. “Sure.”

The line for the ride wasn’t very long. Jack and Cas filed in ahead of Dean and Julie. When they rocked off in their own carriage they gave the waiting couple a friendly salute.

“Are you thinking this ride will calm me down?” Dean passed the tickets to the attendant and tugged her up the rickety aluminum stairs.

She slid next to him on the hard seat. “Not really.” She shivered.

“Chilly?” He asked.

“A little.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. The bar secured them in their carriage, they rocked backwards and up, and Dean’s secure footing disappeared. The evening sky above the rooftops and tree canopies turning deeper shades of blue as his eyes gazed higher.

“I kind of just wanted to get you alone for a little while.” She whispered, nuzzling into his neck.

“Hm.” Dean closed his eyes and smiled when she shivered again. They floated and swayed in a static spot as another group got on the ride.

“If you were perfect at that game, too, I would have thought I was dreaming again.”

“Again?” He rubbed her elbow. The carriage jerked up another click and stopped. Cas’s and Jack’s sneakered feet dangled above them.

“I don’t remember anything after Ina touched me, once we got to the shopping center and I parked the car.” Dean’s body turned rigid at the mention of the Jinn’s name. Julie slipped an arm around his waist and burrowed closer. Her warm breath bathed skin along his t-shirt collar. “I thought maybe she had drugged me. That’s what I asked the doctors. But, they said nothing came back in the tests to suggest that.”

His other hand latched onto her forearm.

“It wasn’t like I woke up in that bed as if no time had passed between the car and the hospital. It wasn’t a snap of the fingers. Have you… have you ever dreamed and felt like you’ve lived days, even weeks during it?”

_‘Why, yes, Julie. I was kidnapped by a Jinn, a magical creature that feeds off human blood and puts its victims in a comatose, dream state. Hate to break it to you, but that’s exactly what happened to you, too.’ If I’m truthful right now, she might jump out of the damn carriage._ “Weeks?” _Avoid answering at all costs._

“That’s what happened. I was living my life. But, it was this, fantasy life. Just me… and you.”

_Me?_ His thoughts focused on the night he’d found Julie. _The Jinn was spouting some shit. Julie dreaming about me._ The Ferris wheel rotated without a hiccup with all its passengers accounted for and aboard the ride. The cool night air trailed over their entangled limbs. Goosebumps formed over her skin. He wondered how much of it was the wind or his fingers brushing along, needing to touch as many parts of her as he could. _I was in her fairy tale life. Like the one I had, so long ago. The one that brought mom back to life and teased me with what could have been. Before she was really brought back by Amara, like a game show parting gift. ‘We appreciate you playing Dean. You were going to blow yourself up to save the world, but big sis and universe creating bro here worked it out, thanks to you.’_ His mind shifted to Jack, the reason they were at this festival in the first place. _And then there’s the former archangel slash human whose unstable powers took mom away again._ A quick stab hit his heart. _Here we are: one big happy band of misfits._ _Yeah, explaining supernatural stuff is going to have her looking at me like I should be committed._

Dean figured they had about eight cars to unload before them once the ride was done. They swirled and spun. The festival lights, the crowds, the noise; it all dipped close then faded away. He wanted to know specifics from Julie. The worry that his curiosity would only lead to more of her questions made him hesitate.

“Still there, Dean?” She tugged at his shirt.

“Yeah.”

“I freaked you out.” She stated.

“No. No.” He tilted his head down, nudging her forehead with his nose. He needed to look into her eyes and provide some reassurance. Those brown eyes were wide and cautious. He flashed her a smile. “What did we do in this dream of yours?”

Her eyes crinkled up with her grin. “A lot of what we started to do earlier today... in my bedroom.”

A brow lifted. “Why Julie, was I your sex slave?”

“Pretty sure there was mutual agreement in all of the activities that occurred.”

He bent down and kissed her, soft and slow. “I don’t doubt it. Was that all that we did? Cause that sounds like an awesome dream to have under any circumstances.”

“Not all. We just spent a ton of time together. Looking back on it now, the parts I can piece together, I should have known something was off. Because it was literally only you and me. In our neighborhood, in the city, taking drives along empty roads for miles.” She smiled. “I felt safe.”

“It sounds like that’s what you needed and your brain gave you that calm. That safety.” He played with the tip of her ponytail as the carriage swung to a stop, almost at the very top of the wheel.

"Dean!" Jack called from behind, interrupting the moment. Dean turned back and offered a raised hand. He felt Julie turn back as well over his other shoulder. "You can see everything from up here!" Jack added with a beaming smile that matched Cas's. _They really do look like father and son._

"He's so cute." Julie commented. Her lips pressed into Dean's cheek when they returned to snuggling. “Not as cute as you, though. And, you were just what I needed. You were perfect." She sighed. "But, I gotta say, you were even better than what I could’ve dreamt up today, when you...” She trailed off when they locked eyes again.

“When I what?” He offered his best innocent expression.

She blushed.

“Come on.”

Her eyes drifted to his mouth. “When you ate me out.” The blush deepened under the Ferris wheel lights. She licked her bottom lip, the red stain worn off hours ago. It took a second for him to realize she mimicked his response to her statement.

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, shifting in the uncomfortable seat, his excitement growing at their proximity and the intimate confession. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

“Let’s put you out of your misery then.” Her lips brushed against his ear. “Can I come back to your place tonight?”

His eyes widened. “Well, I was already planning on staying over at yours... but, wherever. Long as we finish what we started.”

“Good.” She caught his lobe between her teeth.

Dean moaned. _Gotta live up to this unstoppable sex machine she’s built up in her head. Yep, I may die tonight. But, what a way to go. Sure as hell a thousand times better than death by bacon. And, I fucking love bacon._


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I would normally have broken this up into two chapters. But I've been at this for hours today and I think it reads like a roller coaster ride this way... good way. I hope you enjoy it! Life is going to be hectic this week, so I think that's why I've burrowed into this story for most of my weekend. And whoever reads this as it posts, I'm all caught up in my writing. So, it may be a week or more before I wrap this up. Yes, my intention is to wrap up this little story for now and pick up later with a continuation. I want to leave Julie and Dean on a high note before throwing them into another conundrum. There may be a little cliff-hanger. Nothing terrible. Sorry, not sorry. Comments are love!

The drive back from Cas and Jack’s, after dropping them off, was quiet except for the airstream whipping past and into Baby’s cabin, and the Zeppelin soundtrack. Dean liked that Julie seemed fine just… being. And, just being with him. Not a ton of talk filling up the space between them.

After two weeks of being brushed off by Julie - dealing in her own way, which he respected, with the crazy shit she’d gone through - he felt anything but distant from her now. He’d come to terms with a lot during Julie’s unspoken restraining order. One, that this was turning into something greater than an infatuation. Another, Julie was not another hot chick of the week that he could save and reap sexy rewards and move on. This was not a throwback to his full-time hunting slash lothario days. Most important and scariest: he really wanted to keep her in his inner circle.

The question that kept resounding in his head. _How?_ How would he do that, tell her everything, deal with the fallout? _How does anything normal form after I show my hand?_ He could make love to this beautiful woman for days and days and enjoy every goddamn second of it. But how could he really get close to her? _And keep her safe?_ He realized how much he craved wanting to keep her safe. _Story of my life._

_Fuck it. Just making my head hurt with this round and round bullshit. She’s here. Now._ His fingers crept over the front seat and wedged into the slit of crossed, warm, silky bare thighs. With a nonchalant motion, she angled more in his direction and allowed better access. A light smirk lined her lips as she stared out the passenger side window; the curve of her nose more prominent in the profile he glanced at again and again. He didn’t tease further, even though he wanted to dip his fingers into her folds; see if she was wet, soaked. He’d been dealing with a semi all fucking day, after all. _She better be drenched. Only fair._

His palm pressed into her skin. _Just inches away from that sweet snack._ His tongue swirled in his mouth, remembering how tangy and sweet she tasted. How she bucked and twisted and ticked like a little time bomb. How gorgeous she looked when she came for him. He debated if he should pull off to the shoulder and eat her out again before they got home. _Right in the front seat._ He shook his head. _No. That’ll lead to a fast and quick fuck. Way too quick._ Dean shifted in his seat and caught Julie staring at him in confusion. “What are you arguing with yourself about?” She smiled.

Dean cleared his throat. “Nothin.”

By the time he was at his front door, working the lock open, he was amped and ready to pounce. It took every ounce of will power to rein in his need.

Her body leaned into his back. The warmth of her chin rested into the dip under his shoulder blades. “Getting tired, sweetheart?”

“Nope. Just like being close to you.”

He smiled, gaining entry. “So cheesy, it’s cute.”

“Yeah. You’re rubbing off on me.”

A flick of a nearby wall switch turned on the ceiling fan light in the living room. His eyes inventoried the space. _Not the cleanest; but not the dirtiest it’s been, either._ He spun and pulled her into the house by an arm and kicked the door closed. “I wanna rub all over you.”

Julie’s surprised and awakened eyes met his grin. She laughed. “Promise?”

His body pressed into the curves he wanted to memorize and ride all damn night. He nodded into a kiss that began on her lips, swept over her cheeks and trailed down the side of her neck. His fists curled into and tightened the t-shirt around her waist. “Italians do it better, huh?” He mumbled against her skin. ”We’ll see about that.”

A tight hitch of air caught in his throat at the feel of her fingers searching, finding, then fumbling with his belt buckle. His cock was inflating to fuck ready status in his jeans at an alarming rate, even for him. The strap loosened in an instant. Clinking of metal. A deft pull of leather through the denim loops, like a rip cord. _Or a whip._ The thought of Julie in a shiny black vinyl bustier swinging a riding crop made him bite his bottom lip.

His posture straightened. He dipped his chin to his chest to examine her thorough attentiveness with the task at hand. He didn’t relent his hold, pulling her even closer with clenched fists twisted in her t-shirt. The top of her lids and long lashes fluttered, staring at her own hands unbuttoning, unzipping. Quick inhales and exhales escaped her open mouth. He spied the tip of her tongue teasing that cupid’s bow. “Shit.” He moaned at the sight and feel of her fingers delving under the denim of his open fly, under the waistband of his boxer briefs, touching the heat and rigid state of his cock. She caressed and cupped his bulge, flicking her thumb over the head.

She tilted her face up to stare at him with those pretty brown eyes, tinted dark and heavy with lust. She rose up on tiptoes and kissed him. Her tongue tasted, investigated, matching the pace of her now stroking fingers.

His tongue swirled and danced with hers until she took a long languid suck. She pulled on the tip, held it hostage, then nibbled. The responsive muscle popped out of her mouth and he gasped. “Like having your way with me, sweetheart?” His chest heaved.

She grinned and nodded. “I wanna taste you.”

He gulped. “Bedroom’s this way.”

A shake of her head swung her ponytail. “Here. Can’t wait a second longer.” She kissed his lips one more time. The slide down his body was slow, meeting resistance from Dean who refused to release her t-shirt from his grasp. A sigh escaped from her lips. She pulled her hands out of his pants and lifted arms straight up. His eyes widened as she shimmied out of the shirt like it was a snakeskin. The hypnotic display ended with her kneeled in front of him in a white cotton bra and those sweet jean shorts. The tops of her breasts stuffed into the cups rose and fell with her eagerness. His eyes lit up, glancing behind at the bare soles of her cute little feet. _When the hell did she take off her sneakers and socks? She’s a little magician._

“That’s not gonna be comfortable on the hardwood, sweetheart.” He groaned at the pull of her fingers to get his jeans and underwear off. “Wait. Just a couple seconds longer.” He tossed her inside out t-shirt on one of the plaid couch cushions and strained to reach the blanket he always had over one of the armrests. He toed out of his sneakers and tossed the folded throw on the floor between them. His hands pulled her up by her armpits like a ragdoll. Long enough to nudge the blanket under her knees. “You’ll thank me later. Not as young as we used to be.” He grinned.

“You’ll thank me now.” She hummed and worked all of his bottom layers off in one quick peel to his thighs. His cock sprung out. She licked her lips at the sight and rocked back on her heels. “Of course, even this is pretty.” His grin dropped when her fingers slipped around the length and stroked, steady and slow. “Something this pretty shouldn’t have had to suffer all day.”

_Damn._ He rocked his head back. _She’s good at this._ “Longer than that.” He whispered.

“Hm?” He felt her rise up, using his cock as a handlebar. “What did you say?” Warm breath breezed over the tip. Her tongue flicked out to taste him. “Hm.” A satisfied moan. “What did you say, baby?” she repeated.

_Shit. She’s using ‘baby’ now, too._ He grit his teeth as the pace of her strokes picked up. He stared at the ceiling. “Been longer than a day.” The statement released from his throat with a struggle.

“How long has it been?” Another taste.

The words hiccupped out with each downward pump on his dick. He wouldn’t have been able to lie at that moment, even if he tried. “I haven’t… taken care of things… since that night we... were interrupted... by Cas.”

She stilled. “What?”

He sighed at the reprieve, still staring at the ceiling. “Lot going on, sweetheart. You were in the hospital and then when you got back home, things were… well, all that stuff you’ve been working through... I was too worried about you to jack off to naughty thoughts _involving_ you.”

“Dean.” There was a hint of amazement in her voice.

_God. I can feel her breath on my dick. Gonna cum on her face like it’s my goddamn first time if I can’t slow it down. Think about something else, anything else. Maybe I should paint the ceiling soon._

“That’s been over two weeks. Is that… normal for you?” Her fingers squeezed the base of his cock.

_I can probably grab a couple gallons at the paint depot this week._ He shrugged. “I’m pretty regular. Once a day. Sometimes more than that.”

“Have you been saving that all for me?”

_I can hear the grin in her voice. Why the hell did I think abstaining was such a good idea again?_ “Did you think I was kidding earlier? When I said the next time I came it was going to be inside of you?”

Her lips pressed to the tip of his cock. “You didn’t specify _where_ inside of me.” She moaned and without any warning sucked him into her mouth.

Dean hissed at the wet, pillowy texture of her beautiful mouth surrounding his pulsing, rock hard length. She took him in slow, humming in what sounded like gratitude to Dean’s ear. Her fingers wrapped and worked the stem. “Goddamn it, sweetheart.” He let out a low growl.

Her mouth and hands pulled back. “Dean. Look at me.” He groaned and dropped his head. Her lips were pink and full, eyes narrowed, palms resting on her thighs. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” He stroked her cheek. “Just, not as young as I used to be.”

“You’ve already said that.” She smiled and leaned into his fingers. “Neither am I. I think age provides some worthwhile experience.”

He sighed. “Oh, I agree. You’ve definitely got the experience part down.” _Shit, that didn’t come out right._ She didn’t seem to be paying his words much mind, with his cock in her face. “But, I let go now, don’t know how much good I’m going to be…” Her head tilted. She caught his thumb in her mouth, never breaking eye contact. One slow suck. “Damn.” Dean gulped.

“Do you want to let go?” She asked when she finished giving his digit attention.

He nodded.

“Then let go. One condition.” His cock twitched when her fingers held onto the base again. “You keep your eyes on me. And, I gotta hear that voice of yours, baby.”

He grinned as she moved closer to the tip, dripping with precum. “That’s two conditions.” He cradled the back of her head, fingers burrowing into her hair. “Lick my cock, sweetheart.”

She moaned, pressed her tongue to the tip, then swiped it over her lips. They glistened with his slick. Another long lick. “You’re going to cum so hard, aren’t you?” she asked in a low whisper.

_There it is. That sexy as hell tone._ “Yeah.” He grunted.

Pumping him now, using his excitement to lube him up, as she continued. “I’m gonna feel it, pulsing through this thick cock, right before you give me all of it.”

“Hm. Suck me, baby. I want to feel that nasty, sweet little mouth wrapped around me.” His fingertips dug into her scalp. She did what she was told. Lips slurped him down, mouth suctioned to his skin. The tongue swirled up at the tip before her mouth descended to swallow as much of his length as she could. Over and over. “Fuckin’ hell. That’s nice. Just like that. So fuckin’ good, baby.”

The moan in response vibrated into his cock. Her hands gripped his ass, using the leverage to push him into her mouth deeper. The position of her head and mouth maneuvered his cock like a lever. He could feel the tip hit the back of her throat. She gagged, took a second to regroup, then continued. When the tip eased down her throat the next time she swallowed in acceptance. Then again. Every damn time.

“Shit.” He groaned loud and pistoned his hips with her guidance. “Fucking your mouth feels so sweet. I can’t wait to fuck that pussy.”

More moans in agreement.

“I’m close, baby.”

Moaning.

“You ready?”

“Mm-hm.” One of Julie’s hands gripped the base.

“Fuck.” Dean moaned. His body tensed. All his energy shot straight to his cock. He felt his cum pulse through him, under her fingers. It spilled warm and thick into her mouth, wrapped tight around his tip. She moaned in surprise at the surge as it kept coming. She swallowed. Kept swallowing. His heart was ready to burst out of his chest. “Fuckin’ hell.” He shivered at the insistence of her mouth, licking him clean, as he came down from the high. “I gotta…” He crumpled to the floor in an awkward position, the waistband of his jeans clamping his thighs together.

Her hands cupped his jaw. “Okay?”

His breathing was ragged. “Yeah… yeah. I’m good. That was…” He smiled and leaned in for a kiss. He moaned at the little lick she gave him and tasted the salt and tang of his release. “Was that okay for you?”

She grinned. “God, yes. You looked so hot when you came in my mouth. I broke you for a second. It was heaven.” She laughed.

He raised a brow. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Of course, you helped by refraining for so damn long. Don’t do that to yourself again…” She raised a brow back, “unless I tell you to.”

_Damn, she’s such a cute little dominatrix._ His forehead melded against hers. “Deal. Can we go to bed and maybe rest for a bit? Give me a chance to recharge?”

“Yeah.” She hopped to her feet. Dean licked his lips at the way her tits bounced in the bra. Two outstretched arms flung to his aid. “Come on, old man.”

He frowned. “You aren’t that far behind me, you know?”

She shrugged. “Not ahead of you being the key takeaway, here, Dean.” 

He waved off the assistance. “I’ve got it.” He huffed and rolled toward the couch, his back to her. The cushions supported his hands. He bent both knees under him in the still wrapped at the thighs state and catapulted up. _Very smooth. I just full-out mooned her._

He worked his jeans and underwear back up his waist, but not quick enough before Julie was able to assess, “Gymnastics are impressive. You have a great ass, by the way.”

He chuckled and tossed a grin over his shoulder. “Thank you, sweetheart. You have great everythings.”

She blushed. After having gone down on and sucked him dry, she still blushed. His cock twitched. He walked to the kitchen and grabbed her a water.

“Bedroom’s this way.” He cocked his head to the small hallway. She took a sip and followed. He smiled at the fact she left her t-shirt on the couch. “If you need the bathroom,” he tapped on the door they passed to their left. A quick knob twist at the end of the hall opened the door to his bedroom. He snapped on a tiny table lamp and sat by the desk and cabinet his weapons were locked away in.

Her fingers tapped on the plastic bottle before placing it on the desk. She pulled out her phone and small wallet to rest beside it. “Pretty neat and tidy. Your army Dad teach you that?” She pointed to the sharp corners and tight sheet formation covering his bed. She pulled out the ponytail tie and dropped it on the desk, ran her fingers through the wavy mane to guide it behind her shoulders. _Damn, she’s pretty._ He licked his lips and watched the ends settle almost at the middle of her back. 

_I really have told her a lot without telling her everything._ His mind rushed back to the texts and calls they’d shared before the bad shit happened. _And she remembers all of it._ “It’s easy to keep things neat when you don’t have a lot.” He spread his legs, rubbing his thighs, trying to relax as the worry built. The hurried glances around the bedroom took stock of the scene. What might tip her off to the life he’d tried so hard to hide? He was always careful, at least he hoped, just in case.

Julie circled the room in her bare feet. The white bra shimmered in the barely lit space. Her hands burrowed into the short’s pockets. Shadows accentuated the curves of her bare skin. _My own little Daisy Duke._ He bit his lip, refraining from voicing the comment out loud. It might make her skittish and grab that forgotten t-shirt, and that was the last thing he wanted.

He watched her take in the sparse bits of the life he did put on display. There were the three tiny polaroids on the dresser, resting against a cigar box. The photos were worn, torn, tired, but had survived the long journey with him. One was his four-year-old self with mom wrapping him up in a tight hug. Another was of the Winchester family, John, Mary, Dean, and baby Sammy, in their front yard in Lawrence, Kansas. The last was of him and Sammy by the Impala almost two decades ago, when poltergeists, wendigos, and the occasional demonic possession had been the worst things they’d come across. Bobby had taken that picture.

There was the old 40s record player, one of the few things he’d been able to salvage from the Men of Letters bunker after the implosion. His small collection of classic rock albums housed upright in the shelf below it. An oil painting he’d found at a thrift store of a prairie field, reminding him of Kansas, hung over the simple wood headboard that he’d refinished himself. Her self-directed tour stopped in front of him. Her fingers danced over the silver letter opener on the desk that did double duty as a supernatural weapon.

He tapped his lap and smiled up at her. She raised an eyebrow, an inner debate playing out on her face, then slid atop one of his thighs. An arm wrapped around the cool skin of her waist. “What do you think?” he asked.

Fingers rubbed the nape of his neck. “I think,” her brown eyes lingered on his smile, “I’d like to mess up that neatly made bed with you.”

He kissed her, nice and slow, eventually whispering, “Hop on in, little lady.”

*

Dean had been merciful to her - _or mean, depending on how you look at it -_ and kept his t-shirt and boxer briefs on when they prepped to share his bed. “Should grab you something in case you don’t want to sleep naked.” He offered. “I won’t talk you out of it, though.” Her heart almost exploded when he dug the red plaid flannel out of his closet. _He remembered me mentioning that one._ She could tell by the smirk on his face when their fingers glided over each other for the exchange.

She’d tugged off the shorts and kept on her panties. Once the shirt was buttoned over her chest she performed that age old magic trick and extracted her bra from the sleeve. He smiled, dipped into what was obviously his preferred side of the bed, and tapped the mattress. A stretched arm readied to cradle her. She curled in, careful not to hit him with a face full of her hair which she’d normally have in a ponytail to sleep. _I’ll give him this tonight, since he likes it down._ He was the big spoon in this particular scenario, the other arm draped around her waist, locking her into position. She sighed. _Just the right amount of warmth._

Her heart sped at the closeness. Anticipation built, expecting the inevitable exploration of her skin, curves, folds, wetness. She waited, trying to regulate the stilted breath. That’s when it happened.

Dean snored.

His heavy, steady breathing blew near her ear. 

_Hero, yes. Superhero? Eh. Still falls asleep pretty quickly after an orgasm. Poor guy. It certainly took a lot out of him._ A smile crept over her lips. _God, his face was absolute perfection when he came. If a look can trigger ovulation, that did it._

She closed her eyes and took in the scents of the room along with sounds of Dean slumbering. The underlying spice and mix of whatever pheromone Dean gave off sleeping next to her was heady and made it hard to smell much else. _Even his sweat is a turn-on._ She focused to pick out the other odors layered beneath. _Bourbon, leather, something metallic, and maybe gunpowder?_

The desk lamp had been left on, forgotten. Her gaze returned to the tiny pictures on top of the simple oak dresser. She wanted to get a better look at his family in the morning. Wanted to ask why he never mentioned his mom. _Nothing recent. Old pictures. Old memories. Old heartaches? Maybe she left a long time ago? Died?_ The thought made her heart ache for the little boy who looked so happy in his mom’s embrace.

She was on edge from having given him head, expecting Dean to finish what they’d started quite soon after. She was slippery and swollen between her legs. Julie always enjoyed that particular act; especially with Steve, who’d been fairly well-endowed himself. _But, not as big or pretty as Dean’s. Never thought I’d call a penis pretty._

Dean adjusted, curled up even tighter against her. His dead weight leaned into her. The sounds of his breathing; the promise of him being inside her; they all made it difficult to drift off to sleep. But she did. Eventually.

_Julie shifted the car into Park once she found a good spot in the shopping center lot. Ina had pointed out her own car down the row. Her forlorn expression from the passenger seat stared out the windshield. “He’s such a friendly boy. He’ll run to just about anyone willing to show him a lick of affection.”_

_“Don’t assume the worst. There could be a good samaritan who’s taking great care of him right now.”_

_Ina sighed. She was such a tiny, slim little thing, even shorter than Julie’s mom. The compact car seat she occupied appeared massive in comparison. “You’re right. And, it hasn’t even been a day yet since he got out of the yard.”_

_Julie unbuckled her belt. “Where did you say you live again?”_

_Ina wrapped a few strands of her long and shiny, raven-colored hair behind an ear. Her mocha brown complexion was flawless, ageless. Julie was curious as to how old she actually was. “Um, just down the road in Fairwind.”_

_“Nice neighborhood. I couldn’t find anything available when I was looking months ago.”_

_Ina only nodded._

_Julie waited, expecting a dump of information. She’d only met this woman three times, but she’d been a flood of words the other two instances. When there was none, Julie cleared her throat. She had a busy day ahead. And a man she was dying to see later. “Well, how about you grab me some flyers so I can drop them off at a few places?”_

_“Yep, I’ve got ‘em in the back seat.” Julie nodded, expecting her to exit, retrieve, and bring them back. All of a sudden, Ina burst into tears. Her narrow shoulders dropped forward and hands covered her face. “My Cocoa Bear.”_

_God, she was taking it really hard. Julie patted her on the shoulder. “It’s going to be alright, Ina. Come on, I’ll walk you to your car. Sooner we get them posted, the sooner you get him back home.”_

_She sniffled, stared at Julie, and nodded. “Okay.”_

_The day was sunny, warm and a tad humid. Julie shut her car door and followed Ina to her spot. A good workout would focus the tension and excitement she was battling within her mind. The night before had been restless. All she’d thought about was Dean, his hands, mouth, and that voice encouraging her to let go and whispering filthy promises before Cas showed up._

_The chirp as Ina unlocked the car door melted Dean’s green eyes from Julie’s vision. Ina opened the back door and motioned to the seat. “Got a whole box full. Spent most of the morning at the copy store.” She was still sniffling. “Take as many as you want.”_

_Julie smiled and leaned in. A strong whiff of incense hit her nose. The back seat was not the tidiest. She drifted back to being in Dean’s immaculate Baby the night before. She lifted the lid off the folder box and grabbed a handful. The black lab’s smiling, panting face stared back from the papers. “Cocoa certainly has a great mom.” The offhand comment left Julie’s lips as she pulled out of the car and turned back to face Ina._

_“I’ll be sure to tell him that.” Ina smiled and grabbed Julie’s wrist. The touch was strong and quite unexpected from the petite woman. A flash of blue filled in the black irises of Ina’s eyes. Julie shook her head. Maybe she was more exhausted than she thought. Her mouth opened at the strange henna colored markings emerging, pushing through Ina’s skin. She felt cold. A stinging. Like bees. “Such a help you’ve been, Julie.” Her eyes flashed electric again. “Hm. You’re going to taste so sweet.”_

Julie woke, gasping for air in the low light. The arms wrapped tight around her were huge. Her heart pumped. She heard the snort behind her and slowly recognized the space.

_Dean._

He stirred and grunted, pulled her closer. “Hm.” It was not a moan of concern. He sounded content.

_What the hell was that shit?_

“Jules?” His lips were by her ear now. “Okay?” His deep voice scratched out the question.

She nodded into the pillow, feeling his biceps clench under her neck. “Yeah. I’m good. This-this is nice.” She brushed the hairs along his forearm. “I’m... just going to go use the bathroom.”

He pecked at her neck. His head dropped back. “This is nice.” He affirmed in a faraway voice. She slithered out from under his embrace and stood by the side of the bed, inspecting his relaxed face. Closed eyes, slightly parted lips. “Coming back?”

“Of course.” She whispered, frowning at the question. “Go back to sleep, Dean.”

“K.” He nudged his nose into the pillow. The sight made her heart ache. He looked peaceful, younger; cares washed away if only for a short while. She wondered how soft and still his cheeks and lips would feel then, not clenched in heated anticipation or want. He floated into his own dreamland. She wondered as she spotted his eyes tracking something under his lids. But she didn’t dare disturb. _Something tells me you deserve all the good dreams, Dean Winchester._

Julie tiptoed out of the room, grabbing her phone off the desk before she left, and headed into the bathroom. She clicked on the overhead light, shut the door and sat on the toilet seat. Cool porcelain against the back of her thighs was reminiscent of Ina’s frigid grasp in her dream. _Nightmare? Memory? What the hell was that?_ A shiver started at her shoulders and trickled down her spine. She sat up straight.

One of the way too long sleeves drooped over Julie’s hand. Bringing the fabric up to her nose, she inhaled the embedded Dean scent under the detergent. The inhales and exhales dragged out slow.

Her eyes took in the functional, clean surroundings of his nicely updated bathroom. Modern, smokey grey subway tiles, lined with a lighter grey grout, had been installed with care on the floor. Her toes dug into the cushioned powder blue rug that ran the length of the walk-in shower and ended in front of the throne. _Actually a pretty comfy seat._

There were fancy chrome faucets and sprayers behind clear, pristine glass doors. _Those doors were a pain to clean at the old house. I was always lazy about that. Got dull and filmy. But, these? Not a water spot to be spotted. Impressive._ A veined grey and white marble shower interior looked sleek and expensive. A pedestal sink and rather large mirror resided next to a repurposed bookcase storing rows of plushy grey and white towels, toiletries and male necessities. She made a mental note of the cologne he wore. The robe on the door hook produced a grin. _He’d look like Hugh Hefner in that._

_I wonder if he did all these updates. If not, he paid someone a decent amount of cash to renovate and make it really nice. Was it in horrible condition when he moved in or is this a really important space for him? File that question away for later._

The nosey inventorying of Dean’s bathroom had distracted her. She then realized she should probably pee and dropped her panties and situated for the task. Her hands grabbed the forgotten phone lying nearby on the tile. She rifled through messages. There had been a handful from Cat, who’d been checking up on her daily since finding out about the ordeal.

_How you holdin’ up? Let me know if you want me to bring Sal and Pep by to run amok in your backyard._

_I’m not sure if this is going to help… found something, I think, related to Dean._

_Check in with me soon, K?_

_I think it’s important for you to have all the details._

_Ciao Bella._

Her stomach flipped at the one line she read over and over. _I’m not sure if this is going to help… found something, I think, related to Dean._

“No.” She whispered. “Shit.” She wanted to remain ignorant. Live in this fantasy space with him for a little longer. Reality was only going to complicate things and make her question everything.

_Maybe, though… maybe this is fate intervening._

She groaned.

_But, he’s hot and sweet and even makes grumpy sexy. Makes me laugh. Makes me feel safe. What details are going to change all of those inherently authentic things about him?_

_Maybe it’s something about his family. His mom. Could fit some pieces together._

A low rap on the door shot her head up. “Jules? You okay in there?”

“Y-yeah.” She squeaked out. “Why?”

“Been gone twenty minutes.”

_Shit._ She frowned, stood, and pulled her panties up. A quick flush and washing of hands followed.

Upon opening the door, a wary smile met her in the dark hallway. Dean leaned into the door frame and inspected her. “Your side of the bed was getting cold.”

She waved her phone, identifying it as the culprit. “Lost track of time.”

“Can’t sleep?” He stepped closer, hesitant. _He’s feeling me out. Waiting to see if I’ll hit the panic button._ “Do you want me to take you home, sweetheart? Maybe you’ll sleep better. This bed’s not the comfiest.” He sighed. “I miss my memory foam.”

“Do you want me to go home?” she asked.

“God, no.” His still not quite awake features frowned. “I haven’t slept that solid in forever.”

She grinned. “That’s not because of me. That’s because you waited weeks to do what you should have been doing.”

His face lit up at her lightened attitude. “You had a little something to do with it.” He tugged at the hem of his shirt right above Julie’s knees. “Come back to bed, baby.”

Julie swallowed down a moan. _Reality can wait until tomorrow._ She nodded.

That smile flashed. The one that gave her a front seat to all his pearly whites. He led the way back down the hall. Low light from the open bedroom door split right between his bowlegs. He was a bulk, wholesale package of muscles and strength. She laughed when he spun and flung his body on the bed, making the headboard creak and the mattress bounce. It took some seconds for the motion to subside.

“Are you trying to break it?”

He shrugged and smirked. “Just prepping it for the workout it’s going to get soon.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You really haven’t…”

He shook his head. “No one else’s been in this bed except for me… until now. And, you’ve got me fully believin’ there’s a lot more in store. Italians _do_ do it better. At least this full-blooded Italian sex kitten standing right here in front of me does.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Even with the comical expression on his face, she managed to feel heat rush to her cheeks. “How do you know I’m full…” She shook her head and strolled to the bed, dropping onto the mattress with as much grace as she could muster. A suggestive scoot closer had him do the same. She leaned her head upon an elbow to match his positioning. “You’ve investigated my ancestry, too? What did you do, grab a DNA sample?”

His free hand cupped her jaw. He leaned in and licked her mouth open. “Both parents from Italy. That’s as far as I went. This is as close to banging Sophia Loren in her heyday as I’m gonna get.” Peridot eyes sparkled in the dim light. “Say something in Italian.”

She groaned. “I don’t speak it well. I mean, I’ve listened to my mom and dad speak it a ton growing up. But, it never really stuck up here.” She tapped the side of her forehead. “And, Sophia Loren, really?”

Dean shrugged. “Lots of Sunday afternoons in front of the television growing up. Plus, she was smokin’ hot.” The hand skirted over her neck and shoulder, along the curves and dips of her back to rest on an ass cheek. “Try. For me.” He pushed her body in to meet his, fingers squeezing the globe. “Please.”

She sighed and shut her lids. Electric pulses flowed at the feel of him everywhere they connected. He was tight and rigid. Hot and hard. Her eyes opened, drowning into those beautiful eyes, and then she whispered, “Che cosa vuoi?”

She watched his smile double in size. “What the hell does that mean?” An innocent wonder filled his face, in direct opposition of the clothed erection he rubbed into the slit of her thighs. “And say it again.”

She giggled and moaned at the same time. “It means what do you want? Che cosa vuoi?”

“Che cosa vuoi?” He repeated. The deep throttle in his voice strummed into her core. She bit her lip at how sexy the foreign words, though stilted and choppy, dripped from that luxurious mouth. Dean’s eyes narrowed in focus. A thumb swiped over her bottom lip. “How do you say ‘kiss you’?”

The apples of her cheeks rose. “Ti bacio.”

“Ti bacio.” He repeated that as well, planting a delicate kiss, cradling her jaw. “How about ‘be inside you’?” His brows did a quick double rise.

She moaned, flustered at the request. “I don’t know. Inside is ‘dentro’. I’ll work on my translations for next time.”

Using his body weight, Dean collapsed Julie onto her back in a second. Air whooshed out of her lungs. He’d tucked his forearms under her armpits, the crook of his elbows wedging in place. Strong hands emerged alongside and caged her face and forced her back to arch into him. “Hm.” He licked her mouth. Her jaw dropped open at the way he manipulated and immobilized her head with those meaty fingers. The tongue swirled and dipped in the wetness of her mouth. “Dentro.” He mumbled. His ability to dominate and overpower ignited her skin. Lumberjack thighs parted her comparatively smaller ones. The boxer briefed cock rutted against her damp panties, wiggling into position and only increasing her fluid production.

“Dean…” She whispered.

Lips moved to her neck. His scruff burned like sandpaper against the skin. “Say my name again, sweetheart.” The words poured out hot and impatient.

“Dean.”

Dean groaned. He bit into the flesh along her collar bone. Julie gasped. Then, he sucked and worried at the same spot of skin with pursed lips and the tip of his tongue. All the while sliding his erection into the material along the folds of her pussy. He leaned up and locked eyes with her. Whatever air left in her lungs released at the raw, worn beauty of this man. “Really wanna be inside you, Jules.”

Hands she realized she’d been using to grip onto his back clenched the rippling muscles.

His lips parted, breath even. “Can we? Will you be alright?” He searched her face, she knew, for some hint of hesitance. “If it’s too soon after all of it…”

“Dean…”

His lids closed at hearing his name. “I don’t only mean what's happened recently. I mean, that’s its own bag of crap that no one, especially you, should have ever had to go through.” Eyes opened as he continued to dry hump her in the most amazing way, unhurried yet purposeful. “But, all of it… after Steve…” He sighed, relishing the feel as much as she was. “We could just keep it fun, simple, easy… just like this.”

“Surface level?” Julie questioned, gauging him now.

He smirked. “That’s your guaranteed best experience with me. No muss, no fuss.” In an instant, the carefree gesture washed away. “You want me to be honest with you. There’s a lot, Jules…”

Her lids pressed tight together. “I did say that, didn’t I? Can you be honest with me, then, in this moment, right here and now?”

His arms untangled from his stronghold. She felt the shift of his body, him pull away, leaning into the crook of her side now. _Shit, why did I ask him that?_ “Yes.” The word came out sure, laced with heavy conviction.

Julie took a deep breath and opened her eyes. When his eyes met hers, he didn’t waver, waiting, hovering.

“Any plans on hurting me?” He raised a brow. She shook her head and tried not to laugh. “Besides kinky plans.”

A curl of a smile. “No. Of course not.”

“Are you scared about being honest with me?”

Dean shifted on his elbow, his eyes breaking contact.

That was an answer in and of itself, but Julie tried again. _You don’t ask a man like Dean Winchester if he’s scared._ “Worried?”

Dean’s finger played with one of her curls. He breathed in, then spoke on the release of air. “My life was… is, still complicated. Not many people would be able to understand. Or, want to.”

She nodded, took the words time to settle around them. “Why’d you put your life at risk to search for me?”

“Aside from it being in _my_ DNA?” His eyes drifted back and stared at her mouth. “I didn’t want to lose you. I just found you.”

She smiled. A stinging in her eyes threatened to release tears. But she batted them away with quick blinks. “That’s all the honesty I need for tonight, then.” Dean smiled. His eyes were glassy, too, and that made Julie’s heart stop for some seconds. Fingers reached up and stroked his jaw. “Maybe another question.”

Dean’s head dropped in a dramatic fashion. His brows crinkled and his eyes narrowed, accompanied by a hard stare. “One more, sweetheart.” The authoritative tone was back and Julie’s arousal returned.

“Who’s made you feel safe?” She asked, her voice trembling.

His head tilted at the question. A foreign mix of wonder and confusion spread over his face. “What do you mean?”

“Who, in your life, made you feel really safe?” She rephrased.

Dean did that mental Rolodex thing she’d come to enjoy witnessing. His eyes darted away, and his lips did a slight tuck back into his mouth. Julie’s stomach twisted at how long it took him to find an answer. But she saw him come up with one. His lips popped back out. The right side of his mouth angled up. When he turned to her he stated, “Baby.”

At first, Julie thought he was calling her another term of endearment. The word finally connected in her brain to the subject matter. “Your car?”

He smiled.

Julie could feel the frown form on her lips. “What about your parents?”

“No, sweetheart.” His smile remained, though it appeared forced. “They tried. I know they did. And, maybe I felt safe before I could really remember what that was... when I was really little.” He shrugged. “Baby’s always been there. Made me feel safe. Made me feel like I had a home. Somewhere I could hide, ride.” Dean collapsed onto the mattress, on his back.

Julie shot up, leaned on an elbow to study his face. The moment was awkward, clumsy now. _I’ve fucked it all up._

Dean shook his head and chuckled.

“What?”

“Sweetheart, no one’s ever asked me that before.” His lips tightened. He reached up and grasped the side of her neck. Fingers threaded into her hair, leading her face so he could study her again. “Why would you ask me that?”

Her mouth opened, then closed. “I-”

“Why would you care?” Dean interrupted. No malice in the tone. Only genuine curiosity.

That triggered a response. “Why wouldn’t I? You make me feel safe. I wanted to know a little about the person that made you feel the same way. Figure out how-” she bit her lip and tore away from his eyes.

“What?” He prodded, tilting his head on the mattress to catch her expression under the waves of cascading hair.

She struggled with the words. “Figure out how I can make _you_ feel safe.”

His brows knit together.

“When I left this bed earlier, you asked me if I was coming back.”

That distant, unsure look flooded his face again. “That didn’t mean anything.”

She smiled. And pushed. “I’ll always come back, Dean. If that’s what you want, what will make you feel safe. You deserve that, same as everyone else.”

His green eyes widened.

Her whole body was on fire, staring back at him. It wasn’t arousal or want. She felt exposed, emotions laid out to be either scooped up or tossed away. It had not been in any way how she expected this night to turn. But now, in the moment, it felt necessary, needed. “I’m sorry.”

Dean’s face hardened. His mouth opened a fraction. That tongue swiped the back of his bottom row of white teeth. “We done with the questions?” The hold on her neck released.

She sat up straight and tucked some hair behind an ear. Confusion flooded her brain. “Yeah.” He hopped off the bed and wandered around the mattress to his dresser. All she could stare at was the back of him, which in any other circumstance would be quite pleasant. But she wanted to garner something, anything from his expression.

A loud sigh left his mouth. “You really are something.” His head shook. The profile presented itself as he bent at the knees to rifle through his record collection. “I don’t get anything out of you for weeks and then you hit me like a ton of bricks with everything in less than a day.” Dean didn’t look over, kept his eyes on the albums. His jaw clenched when he found something, slid out the sleeve from its confines and pulled out a record. A confident twirl of the album between his hands as he rose, the sleeve forgotten on the floor.

The record rested on the turntable. A flip switched. There was crackle and static. The record spun. The speaker waited for the track to play. Dean turned and stared at Julie. He flipped her heart the way he had the album. “I was hoping to make this last. But, you’ve made that impossible now, Jules.” Arms rose over his head. Fingers tugged at the collar and he pulled the t-shirt off in an elegant peel. “I was thinking, maybe, I could hold out for a few songs. But, it’s probably only gonna be one. And, if it’s only gonna be one...” He pointed at the flannel she wore. “Take off my shirt.”

“What?”

His right eyebrow cocked. “You said you were done with questions.”

Her mouth dried up.

Finally, a smile returned. “And, don’t say you’re sorry to me. Not again.” He shook his head. “Not ever.” A stride filled with that Dean confidence made its way to the nightstand. Two fingers pulled open the drawer. He bent down and rummaged. The tap of a foil package hit the table’s surface. A knee closed the drawer.

Julie knew this was coming tonight. Had been hoping, praying even, that nothing else would prevent this from happening. The nerves, the fright, the reality of it had made her hesitate with a pool of muddy, emotional thoughts instead of pure passion and action. Then, when she thought she had fucked it all up, with the words and the estrogen induced interrogation, this complication of a beautiful man had gotten the train back on track. But even scarier, he now seemed to be all aboard with the idea of making this night mean so much more.

“Come over here, baby.” He patted the mattress in front of his standing figure.

Julie gulped and crawled over the mess of sheets and sat on the edge of the bed. Her head tilted up. He grabbed her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “So very pretty.” She thought he must have been commenting on how he looked, perfection in light and shadow. “Take it off.” The command was soft. 

Her hands found the buttons and did not spare any time to strip herself of the shirt.

His smile widened along with his eyes. “Eager, too, huh?”

She smiled.

“Good. I won’t feel so bad when this is over in minutes.” He tore the foil package open and put it back on the table. His fingertips delved into the hair at the top of her head, combed down through to end at the swell of her left breast. He pressed his warm palm right over her heart. “You know how you hear a song and you connect it to a specific memory?”

She nodded.

Dean licked his lips and cataloged every inch of her breasts with a stare that melted her insides. “I have lots of memories with this one song. All good, maybe even great. Someone might even say this song makes me feel safe.”

Julie swallowed.

“Wanna make me feel safe, sweetheart?” He grinned.

“Yes, Dean.” She didn’t hesitate in her response.

“Alright, then.” Dean broke eye contact and walked back to the record player. He cocked his head and smiled at Julie. “We’re gonna work on our night moves, baby.”

Dean could have said they were going to work on their taxes and Julie knew it would sound just as fucking sexy.

He dropped the needle in place and made a beeline toward her. A guitar strummed and filled the room. He dipped down, caught her lips with his open mouth. His arms wrapped her up, laid her down on the bed. Once again, the weight of him pressed against her side. She moaned when he rose up to his knees on the mattress, disconnecting. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down past her hips. She brought her own knees up to assist. His lips mouthed to the lyrics as he removed the last of her clothing. Her lips tugged up at the show.

_*** She was a black-haired beauty with big dark eyes_

_And points all her own sitting way up high_

He tossed the panties to the floor and ran his hands up the length of her body, stopping to massage her breasts and give her nipples a slight twist. He mouthed the next line.

_Way up firm and high_

Julie giggled. He flopped down on his back, flesh of their arms rubbing, and without pomp or circumstance, pulled off his boxer briefs, singing along this time.

_Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy_

_Out in the back seat of my '60 Chevy_

_Workin' on mysteries without any clues_

He fell silent now. Turned to stare at Julie. He held the open condom wrapper between two fingers and raised his brows again. She nodded. A low growl bubbled up from his throat. Her eyes dipped down to watch him work his cock. She knew it wouldn’t take long. She wanted to speak, say something. Every other time he’d wanted to hear her voice. _But this time is different._

_And we'd steal away every chance we could_

_To the backroom, to the alley or the trusty woods_

_I used her, she used me_

_But neither one cared_

_We were gettin' our share_

He rolled the condom over his erection. His body rolled between her waiting thighs. The dominance and power were gone from the way he hovered. He kissed her lips, slow and easy. His fingers slipped into her wetness. He moaned into her mouth and lubed up his sheathed erection with her want. Every cell sparked under her skin. The tip of him poking with insistence at her entrance.

_Tryin' to lose the awkward teenage blues_

_Workin' on our night moves_

_And it was summertime_

_Sweet summertime summertime_

All of the instruments stopped for a second, then resumed their rhythm. Dean searched Julie’s face again. It was all there in those apple green eyes. The request, the need, the want. He wanted to speak, too, she could sense it. _But this time is different._ He pushed inside her, slow and easy, letting her accept, adjust, and respond to him as Mr. Seger sang.

_And oh the wonder_

_We felt the lightning_

_And we waited on the thunder_

_Waited on the thunder_

He didn’t ask if she was ready. He didn’t need to. _Because this time is different._

He pulled back, eased inside again. His forearms held his body up for part of the sway. But when he tunneled back, nice and slow at first, the delicious friction of his chest ran along her hard nipples. This wasn’t going to take long. _Because this time is different._ His pace increased, breath fumed out of his nose, jaw clenched every time he bottomed into her fully.

Dean’s rhythm was quick and steady now, firm and prodding, as the song did the exact opposite and slowed in its reminiscence. Heat rose in her core. He grabbed one of her legs, propped it up to hook onto his hip. His eyes never left hers through any of it. He found that spot deep inside. And worked. Hard. She gasped at how he lit her up from within. Grabbed his shoulders and held on. While he worked.

_I awoke last night to the sound of thunder_

_How far off I sat and wondered_

_Started humming a song from 1962_

She wrapped her calf tight, draped it over the curve of his tight ass muscles. He was using all of himself, drilling into her now. The sound of wood creaking, mattress springs straining. Moans toppled and stacked atop each other. 

_Ain't it funny how the night moves_

_When you just don't seem to have as much to lose_

_Strange how the night moves_

_With autumn closing in_

The music stopped again. Dean stilled, froze. His forehead leaned against hers. “Baby?” He whispered.

“Yes, Dean.”

“You feel so safe.”

He pulled back and she got lost in his eyes. Her heart lodged up into her throat. He nodded with a smile and exhaled, sharp and low, as the guitar started up again. His fingers snuck between their bodies, strummed her clit. And he worked. All of him. With her. _This is different._

She studied every movement of his face. The vertical line that formed between his brow, deep in concentration. The little craters that appeared above either side of his top lip, embedding into laugh lines, when he quirked up his mouth. The flare of his nostrils. The look she tried to define in his crystal green eyes boring into her, shining like glass. He brought her to release and rode the wave. His moans enveloped hers. She clenched her walls, tightening around him.

The end of the song was near and so was Dean. His mouth opened, he struggled out a strangled groan, body rigid in her embrace. And he came. Hard. His body shivered. He grinned, kissed her lips, and rolled them both to their sides. Still. Connected. _This is different._

The song ended. Quiet for a few moments before the next track began. Dean swiped at her cheek. Julie felt the wetness under the pad of his thumb. She was crying. _Oh, no._

Dean smiled. Pulled her in close and held her. He kissed her forehead. She forced away the tears, slowed her breathing. “Tell me those are good tears, sweetheart.” He whispered in her ear.

She nodded along the scruff of his jaw.

Kisses dabbed at her damp cheeks. “Good. Because we just made one hell of an awesome memory.”

She smiled. He kissed the apple of her cheek.

He moaned, pulled out of her, then stood up. Naked and glorious. He rolled off the condom as he spoke and tied it up. “Gotta use the bathroom. Coming back.” He wandered to the doorway, then turned back to look at her with a wide grin. “Always coming back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** Lyrics are from "Night Moves" written by Bob Seger
> 
> When I had to pick a song, I immediately thought of the "Baby" episode and Dean teasing Sam with "Night Moves" after his night with Piper in Baby's backseat. Just from this one episode, I know Dean loves Seger and has a good memory connected with it. Cheesy, yes. Worth it, yes.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, another sprint of a writing day. I just had to finish up the tale of Julie and Dean. At least this part. I write romance novels and, just by default, you have to fall in love with your characters to want to write about them, see them develop. But, I've never had such an easy time writing a story. This is novel length fan fiction for me - and, it's been completed in under three months; which, for me is quick. Yes, stay at home orders probably helped. But, it's just too damn easy to write about Dean and all his nuances and imperfections that make him absolutely perfect.

Right after Seger sang Dean and Julie into some sweet, sweet sanctuary, Dean had expected, prepared for a flood of questions. He’d steeled himself for the barrage of inquiries that would spill from Julie’s mouth. He walked back to his room without a single weapon to defend himself. As naked as the day he was born, he hoped that display would be a little distracting for Julie. Even debated rocking his hips like a Thunder From Down Under as a further diversion. Maybe they could get down to more of that love making business. That. He was ready for that.

But what he wasn’t ready for was finding Julie fast asleep when he snuck into the bedroom. He’d only been gone, what, not even five minutes? Then, he remembered how sound of a sleeper she’d mentioned she could be. _Under the right circumstances, it seems._

He froze in place, stopped to take in the woman in his bed. She was somewhere between a side and stomach sleeper when not forced into a spoon position by a needy bed sharer. Arms burrowed under the pillow in a tight hug. The long mane of hair fanned out behind and over the cushion like she was free falling into a dream. He licked his bottom lip at the curve of one breast teasing his eyes and the slope of her bare back. The sheet had only made it up to her waist.

_Did I love you to sleep, baby?_ He eased in beside Julie, curling in as close as he could without disturbing the slumber. He frowned at the tiny scrap of sheet left for him to pull up along his midsection. _Is she a bed hog?_ Her breathing was steady, relaxed, mouth parted. He wanted to kiss that little hint of a smile right off her face. If her eyes opened at that moment, she’d be staring directly into his. He smiled and felt that tug at his heart again. The one he’d felt so many times that night. He closed his eyes. An occasional moan that seemed to be her version of a snore broke the silence. But it wasn’t keeping him awake. All his mind could do was race. 

When they crescendoed with the song earlier that night, his fingers had dipped into her wetness, exploring the spot where their bodies connected, and the friction of his fucking created a raw heat, melting them together. Then, flicks and twitches in her response as his utmost priority became assaulting that swollen bundle of nerves. He needed to feel it, feel her come around him. That was when he felt the tug. But it hadn’t been the first time that night.

Dean had always craved that amazing experience of being inside a woman when she climaxed. Any woman. It didn’t matter if it was a waitress in Muncie ( _Melanie?_ ) finishing a double shift; bent in half as Dean took her in the diner’s back alley after the saddest, soggiest order of fries he’d ever had the misfortune of eating. It didn’t matter if it was Cassie, sneaking him into her dorm and riding him while her roommate pretended to be asleep. _Who could’ve slept with all that noise?_ It didn’t matter if it was Lisa teaching Dean the kinkiest Downward Facing Dog position. _I pulled a muscle doing that._ It didn’t matter if it was Anna allowing Dean to take her celestial body for a spin in the back seat of Baby. _Would’ve been a perfect time to play some Aerosmith._

It didn’t matter. Because as much as he’d cared for every single one of those women, no matter the brevity or extended duration of their time together, in his own way, it was that second of fractal explosion that made it all worth it. That moment he had helped create, build, release, appease, fulfill. It was pure, fucking joy. _And all those other big words Sammy would use._

He’d held onto those moments, kept them for safekeeping to remind him of what he was capable of during his darkest ones. They’d kept him company during his year in Purgatory; when he bore the Mark of Cain; when he’d become a Knight of Hell. They’d been the part of his humanity, his old life, that crept in on occasion when he’d been strung, stretched, and quartered in Hell. Over. And over. _Wash, rinse, repeat._ It was a miracle he didn’t remember all the torture he’d endured and then inflicted on others in Hell.

_Cas had to have wiped my memory when he raised me from perdition._ _Or I would have popped out of the ground cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs._ He still felt the phantom pain every so often. The decades of torture under his skin, the scars on his soul from all those he’d eviscerated. No one could carry back all that and not have their psyche crumble under the weight of it. He’d always wanted to ask Cas, the angel saddled with the rescue mission, if he’d been given some omniscient knowledge of exactly how much Dean could bear. But another part of him never wanted to know the answer.

The answer he did want to know and had needed since the first time he’d been with a woman, was if he’d pleased, made her feel wanted, complete, even if only for a moment. It was easy for Dean. And he could see it in their eyes, hear it in their moans, feel it in their after shivers, even if they never actually said it.

He didn’t really understand the need, the chase for that answer, over and over. It was fun, of course. And he was a horny bastard. _When is sex with a beautiful woman not fun?_ But something had always been missing, out of reach.

And then he’d felt that heart tug, the first time, when Julie confessed. _I’ll always come back, Dean. If that’s what you want, what will make you feel safe. You deserve that, same as everyone else._

His eyes opened. _Safe. Has that been it the whole fucking time? Saving people, making sure they’re safe. Has it been my mission because I’ve wanted it? For me?_

“Guess I’ve gotta find a way, sweetheart.” He whispered, staring at her. She showed no sign of waking. _Find a way to believe I deserve that._ Heavy lids won out.

*

It had been a few weeks since the festival.

Baby had been in stop and start mode for the past hour in early afternoon Interstate traffic. On a Friday. Dean still wasn’t quite used to the herd mentality of the eastern shore population in the summer. A curse on his lips berated himself for not wrapping up his job in New Jersey earlier. Snatching the skip had taken longer than expected. _Fucking beach traffic._

He leaned an arm out his open window. Hand tapped the exterior of the Impala, warm from the strong summer rays, the concrete under her wheels and exhaust from all the other vehicles sandwiched tight together. Head bobbed to Back in Black. Dean got a nod in approval from a man that looked his age, loosened tie and white collared shirt, steering a sensible sedan that ebbed and flowed alongside. “Sweet ride.” The man called out from his own open window. Dean saluted at the comment.

An inner debate had been ping-ponging back and forth since a text from Sam came through that morning. Baby had the chance to sprint for a steady clip before slowing down. The screams of children in a nearby minivan stuffed with beach cargo forced Dean to roll up his window. He turned down the radio and tapped his phone.

“Hey.” Sam answered.

“Hey.” Dean mumbled. “Busy?”

“No, I will be in a few minutes, though. Walking to class. How’s things? Julie?”

“Good. She’s good.”

“Good.” Sam answered and waited. “Well, we’re good here. Thanks for asking.”

“Sorry. I’m just. Look. No bullshit, Sammy. I need an answer. Simple yes or no.”

Sam huffed on speakerphone. “Alright. Shoot.”

Dean sighed.

“Today, Dean?”

“Am I fixable?” Dean barked out the question.

“Are you flexible? Absolutely not.”

“No. Fixable?”

“What?”

“Fixable? F-I-X able? Just answer the damn question! And don’t think. Am I fixable?”

“Yes, Dean. Of course you are. Everyone’s fixable. Why are you… oh, this has to do with Julie.”

The irritation at Sam’s ability to deduce things was brushed aside. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know how many times you believed I was fixable.” Sam spoke in a hushed tone. “And, you fought tooth and nail to give me that chance to try.” Dean heard Sam take a short gulp of air and shout out a quick hello to someone passing. He resumed his quiet discussion. “I wouldn’t be here, otherwise. Remember when you worked for months on the Impala after the crash, after Dad…” Sam cleared his throat. Dean gripped the steering wheel. “Bobby didn’t see the point in even trying. It was twisted up like a churro. But, I knew you’d want to fix it. If there was only one working part in that hunk of junk, you weren’t going to give up. Just like your car, it’s going to take time. And, you have to work at it.”

“If you tell me I gotta go all hippie and meditative, Sammy, I swear to God…”

Sam chuckled. “You gotta find your own path, Dean. But, I do think you need to consider some help.”

Dean fiddled with the air vents. “What kind of help?”

Sam sighed. “A therapist.”

Dean belly laughed. “What kind of therapist am I going to talk to that’s not going to have me committed after five minutes?”

“Okay, listen for thirty seconds. You know how Garth is a dentist and takes care of his werewolf buddies because no one else would be able to work on their teeth without running out of the room screaming? Dean?”

“I’m listening.” Dean grunted.

“There are a lot of resources for hunters, too. People that understand the life and the world we exist in. Some have even lived it. You just have to know where to look. I’ve got a therapist.”

“What?” Dean’s lips pursed tight after the question.

“Been meeting with her every other week since around the time I moved to California. She even does her sessions over the phone with clients... all over the country.”

Dean understood the suggestion. “You’ve been talking to this therapist about me?”

“Well…”

“Then, help a brother out and find me another one. Clean slate, if I’m going to do this.”

“Really?” Dean envisioned the slack jawed, wide eyed expression on Sam’s face.

“Ask me again and I’ll change my mind.”

“Alright, alright, you got it. I’ll touch base with a name and contact later tonight.”

“You free around…” Dean glanced at his watch, “like three your time later today?”

“Yeah, why?”

*

Hours later, Dean sat on Julie’s couch, waiting for Brigida’s lasagna to reheat in the oven. The smell of sauce and mozzarella was making his stomach grumble. He’d called out to Julie, busy with something in the kitchen, when the faucet turned off and the clattering died down. Had asked her a question he knew she wouldn’t expect.

Dean caught the surprise in Julie’s eyes when she’d rounded the corner at the question. Her hand tapped on the doorsill. She looked comfy and edible in a faded pink, tight Spice Girls t-shirt and yoga pants. He recalled her exact words when she kissed him hello, allowing him entrance from the sliding back door with a bottle of red in his hand. _My favorite guy and my favorite wine on a Friday night? I’m going to need an extra helping of both after the day I’ve had at work._

Julie’s nose twitched before she answered. “There’s time. Got another 20 minutes until food’s ready. Are you sure?” Julie darted to the entry hall mirror and fussed with her hair.

Dean tried to look annoyed. But she looked extra cute when she got nervous. “Jules, should I be worried that you’re trying to make yourself pretty for a video call with my brother?”

She turned from the mirror and gave him a grin. “You told me he’s taken. Just want to make a good impression.”

He tapped his lap and relaxed deeper into the cushions of Julie’s couch. “You can make a good impression on me before the call.”

Julie shook her head. “Why?”

Dean frowned. “You don’t want to?”

“Of course I want to.” She shuffled back over to him in her bare feet, wedging into his side on the couch and sitting back on her heels. The warmth of her arms, draped with ease around his chest and shoulders, elicited a tiny purr from his mouth. His arm snuck around her waist. She smiled. He could tell he made her lose her train of thought and grinned, victorious. She tapped his chest and finally continued. “I mean, why all of a sudden did you ask about me meeting Sam?”

Dean shrugged. “He keeps messaging. Asking how you’re doing. If you couldn’t tell, I don’t particularly like being the middleman.” The tease of skin under her t-shirt had his mind wander to more pleasant activities. “Sooner I play catch up with little brother, sooner I can be the man under you.”

Julie crinkled her eyes. “Wouldn’t the proper term be younger? He looks way taller in the…”

Dean cleared his throat and leaned forward on the couch, propelling her back into the cushion. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

A laugh of accomplishment emerged from Julie. _She does like to tease. All sorts of ways._ Dean smiled at the sound of her chuckling. _I gotta bottle that up and save some for later._

Sam connected to the call after about thirty seconds of lag. Dean had time to settle back into his seat and watched Julie sit proper on her ass now, pressing against his arm, not in the video frame. She bit the inside of her lip. Dean whispered, rubbing her thigh with his free hand, “He’s a puppy dog, sweetheart.”

Sam’s face filled the frame. For some reason, he’d trimmed his beard back some. He gave Dean a robotic wave. “Hey, Dean.”

Dean cleared his throat. Sam had made the explicit request earlier today to not be called Sammy on this call. This call that was supposed to appear to Julie like they hadn’t talked in a while. “Sam. How you doin’?” _We are the worst actors._

“Good. How are you?”

“Good. How’s Eileen?”

“Good. Not home yet, still at work.”

Dean and Sam nodded in silence at each other. “Oh, hey.” Dean shouted way too loudly. He felt Julie twitch at his unexpected enthusiasm. “I’m over at Julie’s and thought it’d be a good idea for you two to finally meet.”

Sam tucked some hair behind an ear. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Dean nodded, then looked to Julie and offered her the phone to hold. She swallowed. Her cold, nervous fingers slid over his own in the brief exchange. That beaming smile took over her face. Her cheeks flushed pink as she looked at the screen. “Hi, Sam.”

“Hey, Julie. Nice to talk to you.” Sam gave a quick nod and gave her a genuine smile. No acting necessary. “How are you doing?”

“Good.”

“Dean’s told me a lot about you.”

She laughed. “I wish I could say the same.” Dean squeezed her thigh.

“Well, kind of the Winchester way. You’ll have to give him a pass on that one.” Sam tilted his head.

She nodded. “I have heard you’re in school. How’s that going?”

“Kickin’ my ass, along with my part time job. But, almost through.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks. Oh, listen. Eileen and I were thinking you might be able to talk Dean into a visit to California sometime soon.” Dean shot laser eyes at Sam even though he knew he couldn’t see him. _This was not part of the script._ “He’s kind of a nervous flyer. Might need a partner for the trip.”

Julie glanced at Dean and giggled. “He’s not at all thrilled with that idea.”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe work on him for us?”

She nodded. “I’ll try.”

Sam gave her a thumbs up. “Thanks.”

“I should go check on dinner. Take care.”

“You too.” Sam smiled.

Julie gave Dean a narrowed eye stare with a slight grin when she handed back the phone. She got up and dashed to the kitchen. “Alright. Well, I guess I’ll talk to you soon.” Dean gave Sam the _I’m going to kill you_ look.

Sam laughed. “See you, Dean. Enjoy dinner.”

Dean ended the call with a quick tap. He heard the oven door open and shut.

“It should probably rest for another five or ten minutes.” Her voice entered the room before she did. She strolled over, then stood in front of him on the couch with her hands on her hips. “You too planned that, didn’t you?”

Dean leaned back to look up. “What do you mean?”

“That was way too awkward to not have been staged.”

He pulled her between his open legs by her hips. “Maybe that’s just how we are with each other.”

Julie nodded. “Sure.” She sighed, gave in and climbed on top of his lap, kneeling above him. Her calves squeezed against his legs, ass on his thighs. Fingers kneaded the sides of his neck. “What brought that on?”

He reclined, letting the couch cushion the back of his head. Strokes along her torso made her shirt ride up, exposing more of her tummy with each upward motion. “You’ve been really patient.”

Julie waited for further explanation.

“No questions, no asking for honest answers. Not since the festival.”

“Since you showed me your night moves.” She smiled and squirmed in his lap.

He shifted forward and deeper into the couch, wanting her core heat against him.

Julie shrugged. “I’ve got all the honesty I need right now.”

Dean felt that tug at his heart.

“Come help me set the table?” She started to pull away.

He held her at the waist. “Want to tell you something.”

Julie’s brown eyes softened their inspection. Her body relaxed more into his grip. She stilled.

Dean focused on Ginger Spice for a few seconds, wrapped up in white faux fur over Julie’s right breast. He sighed and stared back up at Julie’s waiting gaze. “My mother. Um. She, uh, she died... when I was four.” Julie’s fingers squeezed into his shoulder. Her eyes reflected pure sympathy. “House fire. My dad, well, he was never the same after that. There’s more. But, I just wanted you to know that part. For now.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Her lips pursed.

He nodded and tore his focus from her eyes. He so wanted to tell her the rest. How Mary came back. How he and Sam had lost her again, too soon.

Julie’s hand rested on the fabric covering his heart. “You’ve carried a lot.” She whispered.

_Not gonna cry._ His jaw clenched and he took in a tight breath through his nose. “Yeah, well, that’s life, right.”

Her fingers tilted his chin up, so he was forced to meet her eyes. She smiled. “I think you’re awesome.”

He chuckled, half a sniffle escaping. “You’re turning me into a mushy mess, you know that, right?”

She frowned. “No, I’m not. You’ll always be big and strong. I just like knowing what’s underneath, that’s all.” Her frown reversed. “There’s so many amazing things underneath.”

He exhaled and gave her all the lust he could muster. “I’m hungry.”

She giggled. “Let’s go eat. And, then, you can eat some more.”

*

After the lasagna, string bean and potato salad, and a couple glasses of red wine, Dean had eaten Julie out on the couch for dessert.

Julie squirmed out from under him and rose from the couch on wobbly legs. Most of it was due to Dean’s expertise and the other had been her overindulging on the alcohol. He snatched at the air just missing her thigh. “Where are you going?”

She pulled her underwear and yoga pants back up. “I got-gotta clean up, Dean. The dishes are gonna b-be a pain in the ass later.”

He huffed. “I’ll get the stuff in the dishwasher and start it up.” He was behind her in a second, arms encircling her waist. “You get that sweet ass upstairs.” His voice rumbled in her ear. “I’m gonna want to fuck your drunk self silly, and soon.”

She giggled uncontrollably. “Silly fucking? What does that look like?” His warm, wet mouth pressed into the side of her neck. She shivered. The loud far away moan filling her ears was all rising out of her own throat.

“We’re going to find out.” He mumbled. “Can you make it up the steps without hurting yourself or do I have to carry you, sweetheart?”

She waved a hand and twirled in his embrace to face him. His wide eyes smiled back. “I can multitask.” She raised some fingers. “How many am I holding up?”

He chuckled. “I’m not the drunk one.”

“Okay, I’m going.” She waved a hand again at the table remnants and the food on the stove. “Are you sure you can handle all this?”

“I’m awesome at clean-up.” He kissed her lips. She moaned again at the taste of herself on his mouth. “Upstairs. Take it slow.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “And, if you fall asleep, I’m waking you up.”

She clapped her hands. “Yay!”

He shook his head and tapped her ass. “Go.”

It didn’t take her too long to get to her bedroom. She stripped out of her t-shirt and yoga pants and cleaned herself up a bit before throwing on a cool summer nightgown. _He’s just going to tear it off once he gets upstairs_. She heard a bunch of movement in the kitchen below the bathroom. Dishes clattering, drawers opening, water running. _God, he’s a good man. How’d I get so lucky?_

Her brain was buzzing. At least that’s what she originally thought was creating the noise until she realized it was her phone. She smiled at the name on the screen and picked up the call on her way into the dark bedroom, the bathroom light on and forgotten. “Cat? How are you doing?”

“Good, Jules. Haven’t heard much from you. Just the quick little texts. How are you doing? Is it too late to call?”

_Ugh, now I remember why I didn’t call her back. Some Dean details._ Julie sobered a bit. “Lot better. Thanks. And, no, not too late. I can talk for a few minutes.”

“Listen, I know I was being pushy and sticking my nose somewhere I probably shouldn’t have. I apologize. It came out of good intentions.” 

Julie sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “I know, sweetie. Just tell me, is my life in danger at the hands of this man?” She already knew the answer.

“Nooo.” Cat dragged out the word.

_She just needs to get it out._ “Okay, fine, spill. What did you find out?”

“Well, nothing concrete. Jules, it’s like his online existence has been wiped. At least, anything prior to two years ago when he surfaced in Delaware. I don’t know. It’s like those Bourne movies or Bond.”

Julie shook her head. “What do you mean?”

“Like some government cover up.” There was silence for a few seconds. “I did find something on the dark web, though.”

“Is he a porn star? Because I can totally accept that.”

The serious tone faded from Cat’s voice. “You’re drunk. And, he’s there.”

“Yes, on both counts. So, I don’t have a lot of time or much brain function left.”

“Geez. Okay. I did find a Dean Winchester mention. Some reposting of an old blog, related to these… books.”

“Again, are we talking soft core porn? Erotic novels?”

“No, it’s a series of books. The heroes are brothers, Sam and Dean.”

That made Julie’s focus sharpen. “Wait, his name in the book is Dean Winchester?”

“Well, the author never mentions their last names in the books. Apparently, there was a super-obsessed fan that got inside information and the character’s full name. Dean Winchester is mentioned in one of those blog posts. Fan’s online name at the time was _samlicker81_ and she ran a site called _morethanbrothers.net_. Her maiden name was Becky Rosen. And, even weirder, she used to live in Pike Creek.”

Too many facts were flying around and her tracking skills were waning. _Dean’s name was used for a fictional character in a book series?_ “Could be a weird coincidence. All of it. I-I mean, you have to admit, the name alone sounds like a pretty cool fucking character.”

“Agree. It could. Anyway, if you want, I can send you a couple of the books I found online. Might make for some fun reading.”

“Ready for round two, sweetheart?” Dean stepped into the bedroom, his deep voice teasing out the question, while pulling the black t-shirt off in one sweeping gesture. The light spilling in from the open bathroom door spotlighted the eagerness on his face and the beauty of his frame. “Kinda hoping you’re passed out so I can wake you up with my tongue.” He chuckled. He spotted her figure sitting in the dark. Once he realized she was on the phone his grin dropped. He straightened and mouthed one word in silence, t-shirt dangling from a wrist. “Brigida?”

Julie shook her head. She was pretty sure Cat had heard every word. “Sure. Send them over.”

Cat sighed. “Alright. Be careful, Jules.”

“Will do. Talk soon.” Julie ended the call and dropped the phone on the nightstand.

Dean’s brows knit together. “Who was that?”

“Cat. Checking in on me.”

The expression on his face eased. “Ah.” An impatient jiggle shook the shirt off his wrist and onto the floor. “Dishwasher’s running. Food’s covered on the stove that’s still too hot to go in the fridge. All the rest is put away. And, you’re still awake.” He smiled.

She smiled back. “All ready for round two.”

*

Bright sunlight had roused Julie. She reached out to her right with the expectation of running her hands over some part of Dean’s bare chest. One eye opened slowly and peeked over when she didn’t feel him. The spot was empty. The covers tucked back into position, pillow fluffed, and bed made like he’d never rumpled them up during their love making last night. _Silly fucking._ Julie grinned at the description, but the slight background pound of a hangover led to a groan.

She flopped over. _Bathroom, maybe?_ Instead of a shut door, Julie’s eyes gazed over the light blue tiles and toilet from her vantage. A low-level panic set in as her thoughts jumbled together. _Dean Winchester is a fictional character. Too good to be true._ Sitting up, the headache stabbed her in the forehead. She clutched at her chest and frowned at the cotton fabric of the nightgown. _He’d pulled this off me as soon as he came to bed. Didn’t he?_ Her brain was fuzzy. The shirt he’d left on the floor was picked up, gone.

Her mouth was dry, tacky, and coated with the taste of sour, fermented grapes. _Shit, how much wine did I drink?_

A methodical peel of the sheets and slow deposit of her feet on the hardwood was performed to limit the hangover reaction. She shuffled out of the bedroom door, dazed, confused. _What if…_

“Hey, party girl.” His voice called out from her office. Her heart sped up in gratitude. _For a second…_ She turned to the sound. He was sitting on the pull-out couch, his side pressed into the backrest, sipping on a mug of coffee. Fully dressed, still looking a little sleepy. The shades had been pulled all the way up and the sunlight gave him a dreamy appearance. _Come on, Jules. He’s always dreamy._ She wandered over. On approach, his eyes narrowed. “Need some coffee?”

She scrunched up her eyelids when she stepped into the light. “Maybe.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “I can make you some greasy breakfast. Might help.”

She shook her head, the lips of her mouth smacking together and her stomach moaning at the thought of food entering it. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged. “You kept telling me about this view. Decided to take a look for myself.”

She smiled, staring into those green eyes, blazing bright in the sunshine. Those full lips rose up in that proud, sure smile of his.

_Always coming back._

The pounding faded away from Julie’s head. _This. This is my little piece of heaven. And, it’s all mine. For now, he’s all mine._ “It’s a pretty great view.” She smiled.

His eyes inventoried her from top, to bottom, to top before he responded, “I agree, sweetheart.” He reached for her hand. Pulled her in with the utmost care for a kiss. He whispered again before their lips touched. “I agree.” 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed escaping into my little slice of heaven with Dean. I've got plans for another story, continuation of Julie and Dean, and a jumping off point. Can't promise it will get done as quickly; but, I know I'll love writing it when I do.
> 
> Thanks for reading. I hope everyone is safe and healthy. Sending lots of love out during this trying time, especially on my side of the world right now. Always forward!

**Author's Note:**

> Story started in March 2020 - It’s my first Dean fanfic ever, so I hope those that do read enjoy. I truly love reading comments. It fuels me to keep writing.


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